Mind, Body, and Soul
by Angelia Dark
Summary: They were just supposed to be the parts Gaster needed to fix himself, to rebuild himself anew after the trauma the war wrought on his mind and his body, but things change... After the Barrier fell, Sans and Papyrus's souls begin to break, and Gaster comes forth to give them what remained of his own soul, with effects none anticipated.
1. Chapter 1

This will ultimately be a Gaster!Sans and Gaster!Papyrus AU story with my own twist to it.

* * *

Days seemed to blur into one long line of nothingness, when one didn't have the sun to go by as a reference. Monsters of every creed roamed the underground passageways numbly, mindlessly searching for ways to be productive before finally venturing out into the strange new lands that lay before them. After word came back about the different topographical regions, more Monsters ventured out, little by little, to make homes in this new world.

The Hotlands became the basis for an energy source, courtesy of the Core. Accessing this energy source required the scientists to live in that area, despite the almost-unbearable living conditions of Monsters not of a fiery persuasion. But efforts paid off and soon some comforts and luxuries began to develop, making life a little more bearable for all of Monster-kind.

Bearable did not mean 'great living situation'. It did not take away the fact that they were banished to this small region under the Earth. It did not take away the great war that killed off so many of their kind, many species being wiped out completely, and others being left the only of their kind.

It was a source of heavy sadness that the King and Queen remained the last of the Goat Monsters. Their Captain of the Royal Guard, Naiad, lost her husband in the war, and it wasn't until they were all underground that she found out she was pregnant with their egg clutch. The war had damaged her clutch and destroyed all but one egg, which she proclaimed was 'Undying', and would be named as such. That one miracle steeled her resolve to live on and be strong.

One other Monster last of his kind...was not so resolved.

Dr. W.D. Gaster had watched his entire species die out, and had been present at the merciless slaughter of his home village. It was a cruel knowledge that the Skeleton Monsters were not only very vulnerable to death due to their souls being the most unprotected, but that they were incredibly peaceful and not prone to taking up arms. Pacifists by nature, they were the very last Monster species to contribute, but by then, it was far too late.

Gaster knew why they were targeted despite their pacifism. Within humans themselves were skeletons, and thus Skeleton Monsters were considered a disgusting mockery of humankind.

He had hurried to his home village, in time to see it razed to the ground, dust choking the air. No one, from the elders to the baby bones, had been spared. His own childhood home was in flames, his family gone forever. In the midst of it all were the humans who destroyed it all, ready to move on to the next Skeleton Monster village, their weapons and clothing covered in dust, trophies from their kills saddled to their horses.

Gaster would have collapsed on the cold ground and welcomed death, had he not seen his younger sister's red scarf tied around the waist of one of the humans.

A fiery hate began to spark in his soul, his magic thrumming violently and demanding to be used. _**KILL THEM. KILL THE HUMANS. MURDEROUS BEASTS.**_ The murderous beasts in question spotted him and drew their weapons, rushing forward. Gaster stood up and willed his magic forward, his intent toward them nothing but righteous retribution.

At his call, huge spike-like bones jutted from the ground, impaling every single one of those foul creatures, their blood staining the white snow red and splattering on his face and clothes, filling him with satisfaction, but also a morbid curiosity. How curious it was, that their wretched bodies remained, dripping fluid that their broken forms required to live. It was just as well. Their corpses would serve as a reminder, and as a warning.

Gaster walked up to the human that dared to take his sister's scarf, unwrapping it from around the man's waist, noting with grim satisfaction that the man was still alive. He took the human's face in his hand, tipping it upward to face him.

"I do hope your kill was worth it," he said, his eyes flickering with a blue and orange light. "Every human I find will suffer your fate." He tilted his head upward, seeing the full moon peek out from behind the clouds, illuminating his bones with an almost ethereal light.

"...It's a beautiful night..." he said softly, paying no heed to the human's ragged breathing. "...on nights like this...humans like you..."

He jerked his hands quickly, snapping the human's neck.

"...should be burning in Hell."

He let go of the human and tied his sister's scarf around his neck, taking in the scent of roses she so loved to grow throughout the year, turning and leaving the humans to suffer on their bone pikes, feeling the warmth of his soul cool until all that was left was ice.

* * *

The memories of that war stayed with him. The complete genocide of the Skeleton Monsters...the screams of his fellow Monsters as they ran for Mt. Ebott...the sight and scent of so much blood, the cries for mercy from humans he killed, both warriors and civilians...the darkness of the underground caverns...the visions never stopped, no matter how much time passed, every time he tried to sleep.

Thank the gods for Alphys, that sweet, young protege of his...had she not been around, there would have been no progress on anything. But he couldn't let her be in charge of EVERYTHING, no matter how enthusiastic she was.

It was still difficult. His lack of rest, short attention span, and tendency to lash out when stressed made for a very unproductive and unpleasant work experience. At the end of every day, he would pour over notes and think of a solution to his problem.

Over time, it became increasingly obvious that this wasn't an entirely fixable solution. Despite the experiments done to patch up his mind, it was clear that there were some things that couldn't be fixed. His mind was cracking and was sure to shatter, and then where would he be? What USE would he be? He couldn't let his broken mess of an existence be the legacy of the Skeleton Monsters.

If he couldn't FIX his mind...perhaps he could instead create a NEW one. A fresh start, unburdened by his past, clear and ready to bring solutions to the worst of the Underground's problems!

Not for the first time in his life, Gaster was grateful his primary area of research was Soul Study. It would be making a singular extraction of his soul that much easier to perform. On a day he set aside just for this, he calmed his mind as much as he could and girded his loins before summoning forth his soul.

How pitiful it looked, he thought to himself. So cold and shriveled, hardly worth the effort to extract a piece. Still, he had the incubation chamber all ready, and there was no going back now.

Honing his intent to have the soul piece extracted with his intellect and knowledge, he carefully sliced out a small sliver of his soul and immediately transferred it to the incubation chamber, watching with swimming vision, praying the soul piece would stabilize and remain formed. After a few long, painful minutes, the soul sliver stopped wavering and the stats remained stable.

He wasn't aware that he was laughing with relief until he was on the floor recovering, his hand clutched to his chest and trying to settle his soul down. His little soul sliver was going to be a new life to harvest his cleaned mind soon...he could rest now...just for a little while...


	2. Chapter 2

Asgore nodded to Alphys as he walked through the labs on his way to see Gaster, smiling amused as she squeaked and blushed before dashing away. She was quite adorable and incredibly intelligent and inventive, and he was sure she would be Head Royal Scientist one day.

His amused look dropped slightly as he thought about Gaster, his old friend who was becoming increasingly reclusive and withdrawn. The war had been hard on so many, but at least Asgore had not been witness to his species being wiped out, having instead been on the front lines with his Royal Guard. It wasn't until near the end that he heard the horror of what transpired against the Skeleton Monsters, the pacifists of the Monster race, and he even thought Gaster himself had perished, until the man showed up in the lasts battle of the war, looking magically exhausted and covered in human blood, still doing what he could to kill any human that was in his path.

It was a terrifying sight, seeing his normally-passive old friend summon bone pikes and impale the humans through, a simple but effective method for taking them out in one go. But it was obvious that Gaster had been doing this for many days now, and once he had collapsed, Asgore knew that it was over. The humans were sending in another wave, and human spell-weavers were giving them a choice: flee underground beneath Mt. Ebott, or perish completely.

Asgore chose to spare what remained of his race, and urged everyone in, carrying Gaster in one arm and his thrashing Captain of his Royal Guard in the other, feeling a heavy weight of grief and guilt in his soul. It was only worsened when after several long days, he took inventory of all the species within, and found that he and Toriel were the only Goat Monsters left.

The Fire Monsters only had a handful of survivors, the rest having been driven to the oceans to drown.

Naiad, his Captain of the Royal Guard, grieved the loss of her husband and family, the rest of her species having been left behind at the lake and sea shores and were surely to be hunted down now.

Sitting by his lonesome was Gaster, who made no effort to move or talk to anyone, not even bothering to search for another Skeleton Monster, knowing that they were all gone, and he was the last one.

Asgore saw little of his old friend during the first few years of Underground settlement, but when the labs were built and energy began being pulled from the liquid core beneath the mountain—coined as 'the Core' by Gaster—Asgore put his hand in to help out and make sure things were running smoothly to help provide his subjects with the comforts this project could provide.

He thought Gaster being back in his element would bring up the Skeleton's spirits...but he was wrong. Instead, the Head Royal Scientist remained reclusive and moody, clearly not faring with his new life well. The last time Asgore had seen Gaster, the scientist was driving several of his subordinates to tears with his shouting before locking himself in his private lab to brood.

So he began communicating through Alphys's correspondences about Gaster, and as the only other person not afraid to work normally around Gaster, she knew him best. From the hints in her letters, it seemed that he was developing quirks and tics similar to some of the Monsters that had been dealt brain damage, and further psychological trauma on top of it.

Having a mentally and emotionally unstable Monster in control of the team working with a very dangerous Core requiring delicate decisions wasn't something Asgore was willing to put up with. As much history he and his old friend had, he had to put his foot down and insist Gaster get some help.

He walked into Gaster's lab wing, noting the disarray it was in, giving a less-than-subtle metaphor to the state of Gaster's mind, when normally the scientist wouldn't keep a leaflet of paper out of place. He shook his head and walked further back, peeking into an ajar door.

"...Gaster?" he called out quietly, not wanting to set the Skeleton off accidentally. "Are you in here?"

"I am," came a soft reply from further back in the room where a soft blue glow was emitting from something or the other. Asgore walked in toward the direction of the voice, getting a subtle feeling that not everything was entirely...right. He turned a corner and found Gaster sitting at a desk, eyes glued to a stats panel. "...did you need me, Your Majesty? This is a very inopportune day for me to be out of my lab."

Asgore glanced between a strange machine that was emitting the blue glow and Gaster, his brow furrowing. "What is it you're doing?" he asked, trying to keep accusation or suspicion out of his voice. Gaster held up his hand, one finger raised signaling 'wait', and Asgore felt a slight jolt when he saw that a large circle of bone was missing from the Skeleton's palm. "Gaster, what happened to your—"

Gaster stood up, looking between the stats screen and the machine rapidly before the screen pinged sharply. Gaster hurriedly typed something up and hurried to the machine, waiting as it slowly opened, the blue glow shining brighter.

Asgore felt a shudder run down his back, sensing another magic source show up suddenly. "Gaster. What is going on?"

Gaster smiled, reaching into the machine and grabbing hold of something, taking it out. "My greatest achievement, Your Majesty," he replied, picking up a folded towel from a nearby table and adjusting it with whatever was in his arms before turning around.

In his arms was a tiny Skeleton, its small rib cage glowing with a blue-tinged soul.

Asgore gaped at the small thing, trying to find words to express what he was feeling. "Is...that a...?" he stammered, feeling his legs go weak. Gaster nodded, tucking the towel around the small form more snugly. "...I don't believe...HOW?" Asgore ran a shaking hand over his head. "HOW do you have a baby, Gaster?! Were you...I thought there WEREN'T anymore Skeletons...!"

"There aren't," Gaster replied quietly. "I created this baby bones using a piece of my own soul, with the intent for it to grow into a Skeleton. The intent took, and the piece of my soul developed into a full soul."

Asgore had to sit down. He remained silent for a few long minutes as Gaster held the baby bones in his arms. "...This...is incredible..." he murmured. "...you made a child for yourself, Gaster..."

Gaster's expression went from content to almost distasteful. "I did not make myself a son," he replied tersely. "My mind is going, Asgore. I know that is why you are here today...to convince me to step down as your Royal Scientist." He shot Asgore a sharp look, his eyes flickering with blue and orange lights. "It is not very nice for you and Alphys to correspond about me behind my back. I thought better of you, Your Majesty."

The title was just a tone away from being spat out, and Asgore felt the spite was deserved. He rubbed his face before giving Gaster an apologetic look. "I am sorry, Gaster," he replied honestly. "But if YOU know, then YOU should understand WHY I want you to step down. This work you're doing with the Core is very delicate, and our lives are just now settling into SOMETHING resembling stable—"

"I know this, Asgore," Gaster cut in, his voice raising slightly. "I am not so broken that I don't understand the danger I pose. That is why I have created this solution!" He looked down at the baby in his arms. "...The piece of my soul that I used to create this baby bones holds an inherited genetic knowledge of everything I know. When its mind is developed enough, I will transfer its consciousness into me, and my mind will be refreshed and anew, without the cracks of trauma, without the terrible memories of the past." He beamed happily. "Only the drive to move forward, and to fix this situation we are in!"

Asgore slowly stood up, staring in cold disbelief at the scientist. "...Gaster...that...is a child...!" he said, his hands clenching tightly. "You cannot sacrifice a CHILD like that!"

"I can when this child IS me," Gaster retorted stiffly. "You grow your flowers with the knowledge that despite being nice to look at and tend to, they will eventually die. Only when the time comes, this extension of me will actually have a purpose that will benefit all of Monster-kind!" He turned his back to Asgore.

"I will step down for now. But do not interfere with my personal work. Good day, Your Majesty."

Asgore shook his head, knowing that this madness was just further proof that Gaster was not right in the head. As much as he wanted to grab the child and run, the flicker of memory of Gaster during the war kept him from dong so. The last thing he wanted was anyone killed today.

He made the resolve to remove that child from Gaster's care the moment he felt it was being mistreated, and silently left the lab.

Gaster sighed, staring down at the baby bones that was sleeping peacefully in his arms. "He doesn't understand yet," he said, deftly using his magic to pack away his things of importance. "But he will soon. Your life exists to save Monster-kind one day. It won't be in vain."

He finished packing his things, messaging for someone to deliver them to his home, then carried the baby bones out, thinking of how the hard part was over now, and all he had to do was wait.


	3. Chapter 3

"SANS, GET DOWN FROM THE— _DON'T JUMP, YOU DAFT CHILD_!"

Gaster managed to catch the baby bones with his magic before he hit the floor, checking him over carefully before allowing himself to breathe. The toddler squealed and flailed, his left eye shimmering with blue magic that he had used to levitate himself up to a shelf, unconcerned at all with having almost cracked his skull open with that stunt.

Rubbing his face and feeling at his wit's end, Gaster carried the child to his bedroom, settling him down in a crib (that had a barred lid on top for the aforementioned very reason) and tucking him in. "You're going to be the death of me, boy," he sighed, pressing a fingertip to the baby bone's forehead. "Sleep now."

At his magic command, the baby bones settled back, letting out sleepy gurgles as he dropped off to sleep. Gaster waited a moment before lowering the lid of the crib and latching it shut, walking out and dimming the lights en route. He made sure everything was neatly in place from where the toddler had run around like a tornado before collapsing in a chair.

Okay, so he had been wrong. Waiting for the soul sliver to develop into a skeleton infant wasn't the hardest part.

KEEPING HIS SANITY WHILE RAISING THIS HELLION WAS.

He couldn't ever remember being this hyperactive and destructive. From what his family told him, he had been a pretty quiet and demur baby bones. Still, he did the best he could with what he had, calling upon memories of taking care of his younger sister in order to keep the baby bones alive and content.

It was almost a year into the childcare that he realized that the baby bones needed a name. It was incredibly confusing—and admittedly a little uncomfortable—referring to the child as himself, so he quietly went over some common Skeleton names from his village. He recalled a cousin of his named 'Sans', and went with that. It was a simple name, and easily disposable when the time came.

So now he had a three-year-old Sans on his hands and Gaster was starting to remember what a handful a baby bones really was. He didn't know how his aunt Helvetica, gods rest her bones, managed with seven children!

He honestly thought he would have gone mad by this point, but he found that even the stress of caring for a baby bones didn't have any further break in his fragile psyche. In fact, he found it incredibly stimulating and at the end of the day, fulfilling. When he was becoming mentally frazzled, he found that indulging in Sans's incessant need of attention gave him a much-needed distraction. And as Sans grew older, Gaster was able to keep his wavering focus on track to avoid having Sans get hurt.

He theorized that it was perhaps Sans's unconscious use of his own knowledge that the toddler was so proficient in magic use. Sometimes, he swore the boy could teleport.

After summoning up the will to tidy up after Sans, Gaster headed into his own bedroom, stretching out his aching joints, and promptly doubled over at a pain in his rib cage. The shock of the sharp pain threw him for a moment as he struggled to think of when he would have hurt his ribs at any point today, and came up with nothing.

Once the pain ebbed away, Gaster gingerly unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, examining his bones in the mirror. He felt a seizure of panic run up his spine when he saw that the dense bones of his rib cage looked thinner, with several cracks running along four of them.

At what point did he do something to cause this much harm!? He couldn't even think of anything that happened in the past MONTH for this kind of damage! Gaster held a hand to his cracked ribs, focusing his magic on healing the cracks, thinking that perhaps his mind was going even worse than he thought if he couldn't remember how he hurt himself. He'd have to possibly start setting up cameras if he was having these lapses in memory.

* * *

It was becoming increasingly obvious that this was no lapse in memory of being wounded.

He found nothing on the playback of the cameras he installed, and was starting to think he really was going crazy, until Sans started his biting phase, and a bite that should have been nothing on Gaster's arm actually made cracks.

His bones were becoming more brittle, the density thinner, and he was using the majority of his magic reserves to keep himself healed, or fixing whatever got cracked, broken, or dislocated. It left little else for him to do magic-wise, so he saved his magic for baby bones-related emergencies.

Gaster was coming to terms with the fact that the strain on his soul was causing his body to decay, and would soon be at a stage where it would be breaking down faster than he could heal it. What good was there in having his mind back if his body was going to be absolutely useless!?

He put Sans down for a nap—resisting the urge to take one himself, even though he felt he deserved it more—and undid his shirt to survey the damage again. At this rate, he was going to have to somehow grow himself new bones if he wanted to live past his prime.

Staring at the soul behind his rib cage began to spark another idea. He summoned it outward, examining it carefully, making tedious calculations in his head.

...It wouldn't even require that much of a sacrifice, would it? He didn't need a conscious, sentient form, just a new body. Possibly one that was stronger and more resilient to wear and tear.

Taking a quick peek into Sans's room to make sure he was sleeping, Gaster slipped quietly into his lab and flicked a few switches on, looking relieved when he found the incubation chamber still fully-functional. This wouldn't even be that difficult of a growth process. He was just growing a new body, not a new sentient mind!

His head already swimming from summoning his soul twice in one day, he nonetheless clipped another piece off of his soul and placed it into the chamber, forcing himself to remain conscious until he knew it would take.

It did.

Gaster let out a soft bark of almost hysterical laughter, slumping to the floor, pushing his soul back into his chest. Oh goodness, in hindsight, he really should have prepared better. This was going to take...awhile...to heal...

…...he'd just take a quick nap...Sans was...a heavy sleeper, right...?...Yes...he'd be awake soon enough...

He dropped into a dead unconscious state, not even aware enough to feel a stronger pulse of soul magic than should be possible coming from the chamber.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh his various unmerciful gods, what had he done?

Truly, THIS had been a lapse in memory, forgetting completely about that spare in the incubation chamber for weeks until he had to go back in for a notebook and found it turned on and processing data on the console screen. Panic seized through his body and he so sorely wanted to stop the process and reabsorb the soul piece back into his body, only to find the incubation process was too far along. Already there was another baby bones forming from the soul sliver, and it was common knowledge that Monsters could not absorb the souls of other Monsters.

…...and truthfully, Gaster saw more benefits to letting the baby bones develop out than to attempt to reabsorb the soul when it had become independently functional. At least if the former worked, he wouldn't be without ANYTHING.

It took much less time for this Skeleton to form than Sans did, being merely a body and all, and he was surprised when the console told him it was fully ready to be taken out of the incubation chamber. He made sure Sans was occupied—and tied to a harness leash to keep from wandering off just in case—before going into his lab and opening the chamber, taking the small Skeleton form out.

For a supposedly non-sentient form, the baby bones seemed surprisingly aware that someone was holding him, and seemed to want more attention. Gaster wrapped the smaller form up in a blanket and carried him out of the lab, needing to get his infant medical equipment to make sure it was completely healthy and not suffering any side-effects.

During his examination, the baby bones seemed livelier than normal for a newborn. At very least, Sans slept through the first few weeks of his life, but this one flailed around and displayed remarkable manual dexterity making grabby-hands for anything Gaster put close to it.

So at least the reflexes and hand-eye coordination were good, that was a pleasing prospect.

He jotted something down in the journal he set aside for cataloging the baby bone's progress, turning around and nearly jumping when he saw Sans peering up over the edge of the counter, out of his harness. "How in the...?" Okay, he was now 93% SURE the boy could teleport. He narrowed his eyes and closed the journal, picking Sans up. "Sans, it's almost bedtime."

Sans, who usually squalled at the mention of bedtime despite falling asleep the moment he was laid down, didn't respond to him, instead looking at the small form almost reverently, making a soft sound of wonder. "Bay-bee," he mumbled, making a reach for it. Gaster frowned, pulling Sans back.

"Yes, it is a baby bones," he replied. "But it is not a plaything, Sans, it's going to be—"

"Bu-thur."

"...what."

Sans beamed, making grabby-hands for the small form, which was squirming around and reaching for Sans. "Bu-thur! Bu-thur! Sans bu-thur!" He laughed, clapping his hands, his left eye socket flaring with blue magic, the small form on the counter glowing softly and levitating up off the surface.

"Sans, NO!" Gaster cried, countering the boy's magic with his own to carefully put the baby bones back down, turning Sans around to look at him. "Sans, if you damage it...that's the end for me! I cannot split my soul again! You hold my knowledge, so I KNOW this is getting in there, so just LISTEN to me! YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL WITH IT! IT CANNOT BE HURT. Do you understand me?"

Oh, what in the Underground was he DOING, trying to put his point across to a baby bones not even four years old yet...?

To his shock, Sans calmed down, his expression becoming disturbingly solemn for a toddler. Then, Sans NODDED to him.

"...pertect...bu-thur..." he said quietly. "Bu-ther...i...im-per-tent...im...important. P...protect...him..."

Gaster's jaw twitched slightly, both thrilled and highly disturbed by Sans's seemingly instantaneous grasp on this important matter, let alone his improved pronunciation. He forced back his discomfort, nodding. "Yes. Protect it—him. He's...very important." He let out a shaky sigh, setting Sans down on the floor. "...Now get ready for bed, Sans...let me finish checking him over."

Sans nodded again, heading for the door before turning and waving. "Night-night, brother!" he called before running to his room.

Gaster ran a shaking hand down his face, turning back to the baby bones, who was making a grasping hand-waving motion in the direction of the door, and bundled him back up. "...I suppose YOU'RE going to need a name too," he said, his voice thick with distaste. "What a hassle. This was easier when you two were mere concepts." He headed for his bedroom, sighing. "At least Sans knows you're to be kept safe. You're no good to me damaged."

Despite his objectifying tone, the baby bones nestled quietly into his swaddling blanket, making contented cooing sounds as Gaster situated him into a small crib kept in the bedroom to keep a closer eye out, and was sleeping by the time Gaster left to put Sans to bed.

* * *

It was legitimately concerning how fast the baby bones was growing.

The small form—Papyrus, he came to call him, after Sans insisted his 'little brother' had a name—was growing twice as fast as a normal Skeleton, but still maintaining the mindset of a baby bones. Gaster somewhat figured it should be the case; after all, he extracted that part of his soul with the intention of a new body, not anything that could THINK for itself.

Then again, he did the same with Sans, but instead of a mind-host with no real will of its own, Sans was willful almost to a fault. Whenever Gaster called Papyrus 'it', or 'small form', Sans was right there—sometimes out of NOWHERE—reminding him to call him 'him' or 'Papyrus'. Whenever Sans didn't want to do something, it was nearly impossible for Gaster to get him to do it. Except sleep. Sans really did love his sleep.

Papyrus, though...for being created with (supposedly) almost no intellect or will to speak of, the baby bones was very observant and curious, and loved to be held and paid attention to. Even when he wasn't, he was still always so...happy. Sans didn't even really start to smile or laugh until he was a few months old, but Papyrus was cheerful from day one.

Gaster also noticed that Sans seemed almost overly attached to Papyrus, playing with him when Gaster was busy, gently carrying him around just because, and reading to him quietly from a pile of books.

Rather than being annoyed by it, Gaster instead looked on it with interest, jotting down his observations. He got the idea that the two were so close because they were two parts from his soul, and to some extent, knew it. It only made sense that they would feel comfortable and complete around each other.

….and yes, it was...admittedly adorable when he would walk into a room and find Sans and Papyrus in a little blanket corner sleeping over an open book. He may or may not have taken a picture. For science, of course.

Without even realizing it, Gaster would often catch himself reading a story to both children when he put them down to bed, or deftly picking Papyrus up and holding him with one arm whenever he felt a tug on his pant leg, or not even having to look up to know when Sans was getting into something he shouldn't be, and reining him back in.

Gaster quietly closed the naptime story book— _'Soul-to-Body Connectivity for the Warrior Monster'_ —and put it back on the shelf. As usual, Sans was out cold and snoring softly. Unlike Sans, Papyrus wasn't a naptime child, and was wriggling around, chewing on his hand while he teethed. For this reason, Gaster fitted Papyrus's small hands with a pair of tear-resistant mittens; it wouldn't do for Papyrus to prematurely chew his hands to oblivion.

"Mo! Mo!" he squealed, making grabby-hands for the bookshelf. Gaster sighed, tucking him in snugly.

"No, Papyrus, it's naptime," he said. "You know how ornery you get when you don't have enough rest. You'll get another story tonight."

Papyrus squirmed under the blanket, but settled down anyway. Gaster knew that tucking Papyrus in tightly made him go to sleep better, and quietly turned down the lights and turned to leave the room.

"Ni'ni', Da-ddy."

Oh.

Oh NO.


	5. Chapter 5

He tried distancing himself. He truly did. After his future body began calling him 'daddy', Gaster had a massive existential crisis that left him nearly comatose in his bedroom.

'Daddy'. Papyrus called him 'daddy'.

WAS he a father? No, he was simply their...creator? Yes. No. Somewhat. They were extensions of him.

But...but he gave them life. That's what a parent did, right? And even for an extension of himself, both of them had their own personalities and wills. He took care of them, was raising them...Hell, he gave them NAMES. He gave them personal items, like books and toys, and some of the time, he couldn't even use the excuse of them being 'intellectually stimulating'. Having Papyrus gnaw on a miniature squeaky basketball was hardly stimulating for anything except for his compulsive chewing.

For goodness sake, he couldn't even go to bed without checking to make sure they were sleeping comfortably, and even then, sometimes, no matter how tired he was, he couldn't help but watch them sleep, hearing Sans snore and mumble in his sleep and Papyrus cuddle a stuffed toy and smile even in his sleep.

Oh gods, he was in too deep at this point, wasn't he?

* * *

"Now Sans, while I'm speaking with the king, do not wander off by yourself! And keep Papyrus in your sights AT ALL TIMES. And if ANYONE tries to talk to you or get you to go with them—"

"Tell 'em to get dunked on," Sans said, grinning. Gaster rubbed his temples, wondering where Sans heard that expression, and who he had to kill because the boy WOULD NOT STOP USING IT.

"...yes, Sans, tell them that," he said, knowing by this point that it was useless arguing with Sans. The boy knew ways to subtly and even childishly disarm any argument he wanted to, with cleverness even Gaster had problems keeping up with. "But also, PROTECT YOUR BROTHER AND YOURSELF UNTIL I GET THERE. Do you understand?"

As usual, when Papyrus's safety was on topic, Sans's expression went serious, and he nodded. "I will," he said.

Gaster nodded back. "Good." He sighed and walked up to the palace gates, being allowed entry without a hassle, trying to keep Papyrus calm in his arms. Papyrus was absolutely THRILLED to be seeing new people, and seemed to want to meet them all. Gaster managed to settle Papyrus down with a little ball bag he stuffed with gummy beads to pacify him, and walked quietly into the throne room.

Asgore had a small table set out with tea, obviously expecting a bit of a talk. He had looked up when Gaster walked in, noticing that not only was there a small Skeleton—about six years old now, if he was remembering the last time he had seen the baby bones—but Gaster was holding another in his arms.

"...so...you've made another," he found himself saying, the sting of Gaster's proclamation for the youngster to be nothing more than a new mind even stronger, now that his wife was carrying a child of their own.

Gaster's jaw tightened, his hands doing the same around Papyrus's small frame. "I have," he replied. "You already know Sans," he continued, glancing down at Sans, who was giving Asgore a strangely critical once-over. "...and this is Papyrus."

Papyrus looked up from his chew toy when his name was said, looking at Asgore and squealing excitedly. "FLUFFY!" he shouted, flailing at him. Down by Gaster's knee, Sans snorted loudly and unapologetically as Gaster felt his cheekbones warm a little.

"Settle down, Papyrus," he said. "I need to speak with him." He knelt down, setting Papyrus on the ground before standing up. "Go play with Sans now, alright?"

Asgore wasn't quite sure when the second Skeleton was made, since the disposition seemed to be that of a young toddler; but standing up, Papyrus was almost as tall as Sans, his bone structure much more like Gaster's, rather than the thicker stature of Sans's. Papyrus's coordination seemed just fine, though as he took Sans's hand and hurried off to look at the flowers.

Gaster took a seat at one end of the table, folding his hands on the surface. "You wished to speak with me, Your Majesty?" he asked, his tone clipped and reserved. Asgore sighed, sitting down at the opposite end.

"I did," he said, pouring out two cups of tea. "...primarily to see how you were doing...it's been...a very long time since we've truly spoken."

"Six years," Gaster replied, not touching his tea.

"Yes, too long." Asgore took a long sip of his tea. "...I did not know you made another child. How old is he?"

Gaster drummed his fingers on the table softly, his jaw tightening slightly. "He is just over two years old," he said, taking minor satisfaction in how Asgore nearly choked on his tea.

"TWO?" Asgore exclaimed. "But he's..."

"He's growing at twice the normal speed of a Skeleton," Gaster said, finally taking a sip of his tea. "He will possibly not stop growing until he is the height of a full-grown Skeleton like myself. An unprecedented side-effect, yes, but it serves well for his purpose of creation."

Asgore's expression went dark as he slowly and deliberately put his teacup on the saucer, using extra care to avoid shattering it. "What do you mean 'for his purpose of creation'?" he demanded.

Gaster met his glare with one of his own. "I believe I requested you not meddle in my own affairs, Your Majesty," he responded tersely. "As I am no longer your Head Royal Scientist, you have no say in my personal projects."

"...are they really nothing more than...spare parts, Gaster?" Asgore asked, rubbing his face. "They're actual children...I couldn't tell them apart from any other Skeleton child!"

"They were created with the purpose of providing me with an unbroken mind and body," Gaster said, then took another sip of his tea. "Nothing will change that fact. Had you never known about their existence and I performed the mind and body transfers, you would be thrilled I was at one-hundred percent again. You know this."

"I would STILL be horrified that your improvement was due to the sacrifices of two children, Gaster!" Asgore retorted. "There is NO reason why children should be sacrificed for ANYTHING!"

Gaster put his teacup down on its saucer, folding his hands on the table. "...Tell me, Asgore...if killing children could break that barrier and set us all free...would you do it?" The eyelights that were normally present faded, leaving just two cold voids for Asgore to stare into. "It's not so hard, once you get it into your mind that's what it takes to get the job done." His shoulders twitched with soft, mirthless chuckles. "After all, I slaughtered my fair share of the little beasts up above. They're much easier to dispatch than their adult counterparts."

Asgore clenched his fists tightly, reining in his outrage, for the sake of the two small bones within earshot. "That is despicable behavior, Gaster!" he hissed, keeping his voice down. "Even I didn't dare touch the children! They had NOTHING to do with the affairs of the adults!"

"You're so naive, Asgore," Gaster said, shaking his head, one hand reaching up to touch the scarf around his neck. "The human who killed my beloved little sister was a boy well into adolescence. He could not have been older than Calibri when he took her life and stole this scarf from her dust pile as a trophy. What a grand hero he must have been, slaying a gentle soul who never even hurt the insects that would plague her rose garden."

He lowered his hand back down to the table to take the cup of tea, finishing it off. "So tell me, Your Majesty...with that in mind, I repeat my question...if you had to sacrifice the lives of children to break the barrier...would you?"

Asgore sat back in his chair, rubbing his face hard. "...this is hardly the same, Gaster. What you plan to do with those children is for your own selfish agenda, with no regard to what THEY want!"

He reached across the table, laying his hand over Gaster's, his expression pleading. "Please, let them grow up! Let them be their own people! I'm begging you, don't go through with this!"

Gaster remained still and silent for a few long moments before sliding his hands away and standing. "...It is not your concern, Asgore," he replied softly. "Nor will it be my concern what you will do should a human ever be unfortunate enough to find their way here." He turned to leave. "Unless you require something of importance from me, do not contact me again."

He headed to the other end of the room, frowning when he saw neither Sans or Papyrus anywhere. He hurried out the door, feeling a brief panic in his soul, until he heard their childish laughter coming from outside. He left the palace and looked around the courtyard, seeing Papyrus leaning over the side of a fountain and swishing his hand in the water while Sans looked on, amused.

For a moment, Gaster wondered why Papyrus was so enthralled with the water, until a small form poked its head out, small fins flicking from the side of its head as it spewed water at Papyrus. Papyrus shrieked with laughter and flailed at the water again.

Walking closer, Gaster noticed that the small being in the fountain was a young child Monster, the same water species as Naiad. The little thing hardly looked old enough to be outside of the water at all, and he wondered if they had been dumped there.

"Surprise seeing you here, Dings."

Gaster stiffened; only one Monster in the world ever called him THAT outside of his family. He turned and saw Naiad standing behind him, giving him a hard glare that didn't match the term of endearment she called him. He straightened his back, giving her a cold look in return. "I was summoned here," he replied. "And now I am leaving."

Naiad glanced at Sans and Papyrus, the latter of whom was encouraging the small Monster to spew water again. "...So. The rumors were true. You HAVE been creating more Skeletons. I can't say I'm surprised. You always did say the only way you'd have kids was if you made them in a lab, since you were married to your work."

"They are none of your concern, Naiad," Gaster replied tersely. "We're leaving." He turned to go fetch the boys, his body going stiff when he felt a firm hand clutch his shoulder.

"The kids are having fun, Dings," she said softly, with a strong undertone of a threat hissing through his skull. She stepped around to his side, giving a short nod to the fountain. "...That's my child there," she went on, her voice almost hollow. "The only one to survive out of a clutch of ten. She's strong, there. Determined. She's barely three years out of hatching and look at her...already pushing herself out of the water. She'll take my job one day at half my age, just you watch."

Naiad leaned closer to him, her voice going low and hard again. "She's a precious gift, Wingdings. When my family was gone, my husband dead, and the rest of my clutch destroyed, she was there to pull me out of the grave I already had one foot planted in. Some days I just want to hang up my armor and be with her every moment of my life...I want to watch her grow up, and make her mark on the world. That's what any parent wants for their child. Isn't it?"

She let go of his shoulder, stepping back. "Any new Monster children are gifts in these dark times, Dings. They're beacons of hope that things will be okay one day...and shouldn't be treated like painful relics of past could-have-beens. Remember that."

Gaster said nothing. He walked up to the fountain and picked Papyrus up, grimacing at how wet the boy's clothes were. "It's time to go, Papyrus," he said.

Papyrus whined, reaching out for the little Monster in the fountain. "Bye-bye, fishy," he said woefully. The Monster whined too, waving goodbye, unable to follow out of the water.

"Her name is Undyne," Naiad said, sitting on the edge of the fountain. "Perhaps you can arrange a play date for them." Her smile was almost devious as Papyrus squealed and gave Gaster a look that could only be described as 'starry-eyed'.

Oh DAMN, that look got him EVERY TIME...!

"...I'll think about it," he replied stiffly, reaching down and taking Sans's hand. "Let's go home now, boys."

Once they were out of the gates, Sans looked up at Gaster. "...That lady sure seemed to be up to something...fishy."

Sans seemed to hold onto the satisfaction for quite some time that he caught Gaster off-guard enough for the older Skeleton to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

If he was being perfectly honest with himself...play dates were not that bad.

It certainly pacified Papyrus's need for attention and company, and that small Water Monster seemed to be the perfect playmate for him. Even for the year they were nearly separated by water and dry land, the two never grew bored with each other, content with sitting in shallow water and splashing water at each other or playing with small float toys.

Sans, on the other hand, seemed content with watching them play for the most part, or using his magic to make the toys levitate. He often brought a book with him to read during the play dates, but always seemed to keep an eyesocket out for the two, even if there were at least two adults watching too.

It seemed that Undyne was not the only child participating in these play dates; in the Hotlands, many of the Monsters that lived here had children as well, and even though Gaster found it odd that Fire Monster children would be around Water Monster children, it seemed to work out, especially when Undyne finally graduated from the water completely and began getting her land legs working.

Gaster found himself concerned that Sans wasn't participating as much, but then found him sitting in the company of an older Flame Monster in silence, the two content with watching their younger siblings play and exchanging quiet dialogue. It made sense that Sans wasn't as gung-ho about playing and preferred quiet, but he was the first to jump up the moment a child started crying for whatever reason.

While the children played, the adults found a little time to converse and lift each others' spirits. For the most part, Gaster would bring a book with him to avoid talking, but after a few weeks, several of the Monsters who knew him back on the surface got him to converse a little, all very interested in his being a 'father', but to his relief, didn't pry much into the 'how' or the 'why', simply the 'is'.

Many of the parents remarked at how adorable and sociable Papyrus was, how helpful and sweet to the other children he was. The Flame Monster parent said she had never seen her older son talk to anyone as easily as he did with Sans, and expressed sadness at her decision to move to Snowdin to better suit the state of being for her younger son. The little blue-colored Flame Monster that Papyrus enjoyed playing with had too high a body temperature, and caused many things to combust in the heat of Hotlands, and they thought a cooler environment was best to help him adapt.

"It's quieter in Snowdin, so I know Grillby will appreciate it," she said, giving the older red-colored Flame child a sad look. "But I don't think he'll make much in the way of friends...your Sans is the first person he's really spoken to outside of the family."

Gaster followed her gaze across the courtyard, seeing Sans smiling and conversing with the young Flame Monster, who seemed to not really say much of anything, but would nod and encourage Sans onward.

Gods, did he know that feeling. Even as a child himself, he wasn't the most sociable of Monsters, and didn't have many real friends to speak of, save for his sister, Naiad, and then-Prince Asgore.

So naturally, he could see where Sans was coming from...Papyrus, on the other hand, was another matter. Bright, cheerful, helpful, and ever-so gentle. Sometimes, he reminded Gaster so much of Calibri, it was unreal and almost painful, especially when the small bones made him smile.

Gaster just nodded to himself and sat back, feeling suddenly drained from the day already, then felt a tingle of warning crawl up his spine. He sat up straight, looking around just moments before the blue Flame Monster, Sparks, tripped while running from Undyne in a game of tag, and fell into the fountain.

On reflex, Gaster threw his hands out, his eyes flaring as he displaced the small child out of the fountain and into his arms. Sparks's body was sizzling from the water touching him, his soul fluttering wildly in his body in an attempt to repair the damage done to his fiery body.

Sparks's mother was frantic, her fiery body flickering in panic as she fretted over her son, whose small form began to dim slightly. Gaster knew that a Flame Monster this young couldn't handle their bodies getting wet or damaged without the danger of extinguishing, and that Sparks was likely to dust if he wasn't helped, and soon.

"Lava, summon your soul!" he commanded, setting Sparks down on the table. "Naiad, keep the kids back!" He carefully summoned forth Sparks's soul, keeping his cool even as he saw the small thing quiver under the strain. He gently reached over and took a wisp from Lava's soul, encouraging the small connection to stabilize the child's soul with it.

There was a long moment of tense silence before the small soul stopped quivering, and Sparks stopped whimpering and flickering. Gaster let out a heavy sigh of relief, gently picking Sparks up and putting him in Lava's arms. "Keep him close to your soul for the next hour," he instructed. "Your own soul should speed up the healing process so it wont be a strain on his soul. He should be alright."

Lava was crying liquid fire, reaching out with one arm and hugging him tightly. "Thank you!" she sobbed. "Thank you so much...!"

Gaster froze, having not been hugged by anyone except his boys in years, hearing murmurs of awe and approval from the other Monsters around them. He leaned back, fidgeting uncomfortably. "It...was nothing...I AM a doctor, and Soul Study was my primary practice..."

He was interrupted by a tugging on his shirt sleeve, looking down to see Grillby at his side, the boy's expression brimming with gratitude. Grillby slowly reached up and curled his arms around Gaster's middle, hugging him tightly and briefly before letting go and hurrying over to check on his little brother.

It wasn't just the boy's form that put that warmth in Gaster's bones; it had been so long since Gaster had used his medical expertise to help someone, and he had forgotten the feeling it gave him inside, saving lives and helping people. He had saved a child's life, his instincts having taken over the moment the boy was in trouble, displacing the child through the Void and not a moment too soon.

The sudden realization of that fact hit him harder than the boy's gratitude, feeling a heavy tiredness in his body all at once. He quickly found a chair and sat down, willing his soul to calm down from the suddenly surge of magic he had to use to pull that off. Inside his chest, he could FEEL his bones weaken.

 _'Oh gods, not now...'_ he thought, his vision going dim. He couldn't have this happen NOW...he didn't even have enough magic left to heal himself now. He deftly became aware that the world was spinning, and felt a sharp pain of his bones cracking as he suddenly felt himself hit the ground, everything going black.

* * *

Gaster slowly woke up, the world nothing but a dim blur. At least he was no longer in pain, but his body still felt incredibly weak. He willed his arm up, rubbing his head, and turned his head when he heard movement to his side.

"...you've really done a number on yourself, Dr. Gaster."

He recognized that voice. "...Alphys...?" he groaned, trying to make his vision focus. He heard her sigh and slowly raise the bed so he was sitting up.

"What have you even done to yourself?" she asked, looking him over carefully, her voice slightly shaky and sad.

"...I just...overtaxed my magic," he said, wincing as he sat up straighter, flexing out his joints. "It's nothing."

Alphys was quiet for a moment before she reached over and pulled up his shirt. "...this isn't 'nothing'," she said, upset. "This is...I don't know WHAT this is...!"

Gaster looked down, feeling a seize of panic when he saw that his bone structure was extremely thin, whole chips of his ribs missing. Behind his rib cage, his soul was faded and weak, pulsing faintly.

He swore loudly, his head hitting the pillow. It would take WEEKS to build back his magic reserves to fix all this, and with two small children, that would be impossi—

HIS KIDS.

Gaster sat back up quickly. "Where are Sans and Papyrus!?" he demanded. Alphys looked up, blinking.

"Wha...oh, they're alright, Dr. Gaster, don't worry. You just rest now—" She squeaked when Gaster grabbed the front of her coat and jerked her to him.

"WHERE. ARE. MY. KIDS!?" he demanded, his eyes flaring brightly. Alphys whimpered, covering her face.

"N...Naiad has them!" she cried, shaking. "She...she took them back to your house! She said she'll look after them while you—" She yelped when Gaster shoved her away and scrambled out of bed, stumbling for the door. "Dr. Gaster! You NEED TO REST!"

Gaster ignored her, jerking the door open and hurrying out as fast as he was able to without straining his bones. He had to get to his house before Naiad did any snooping! He had to get his kids from her before she took them away!

The walk there seemed to take forever, and his bones were screaming at him to STOP. REST. RECOVER. But he couldn't. He had to get to them! He had to take them before—

He froze when he saw Royal Guardsmen at his house, keeping guard over the boys, Naiad standing in the doorway with his notebooks in hand. He didn't know if he should be feeling more outrage or terror, and at the moment, he didn't care. He stumbled up, growling. "What the HELL do you think you're doing!?"

Naiad looked up, scowling at him, signaling for a Guardsman to keep a hold on Papyrus, who was flailing for Gaster. "...You despicable creature," she said softly, her voice hard and cold as ice. "Asgore told me the bare minimum of what you did to make these children, but THIS!?" She held up his notebooks. "THIS is DISGUSTING! I'd burn the damn things if they weren't going to be used for evidence!"

"You had NO RIGHT!" Gaster shouted, clenching his hands tightly. "You don't know ANYTHING, Naiad! Give me those notebooks, give me the boys, and LEAVE MY HOME!"

Naiad narrowed her eyes at him, baring her sharp teeth. "If you think I'm letting this go, you're more insane than I thought," she hissed. "You will NEVER get your hands on these children ever again!"

Gaster growled, taking a step forward and instantly had a spear between his eyesockets. Naiad glowered at him, stepping around him to the rest of her Guard, addressing her second-in-command. "Felix, keep an eye on him. If he tries to come after these kids, subdue him."

The Cat Monster nodded, crossing his arms and tapping his sharp claws over his armor, keeping his eyes trained on Gaster as Naiad headed off, her Guardsmen following, two of them carrying Sans and Papyrus away.

Sans was curled up tightly, tears running down his face, while Papyrus squalled and flailed around, crying out for Gaster.

"DADDY! DADDY!"

Gaster fell to his knees, covering his head with his hands, feeling as helpless as the day he lost his family, feeling like it was happening all over again.


	7. Chapter 7

Papyrus kept shrieking and thrashing, reaching out in the direction of his father even when he couldn't see him anymore, feeling the understandable confusion and fury of a four-year-old who didn't know what was happening.

After seeing his father fall on the ground and not move, Miss Naiad took him and Sans to the side and promised them that he would be okay, then she took them back home. Sans was doing his best to calm him down, but Papyrus wanted his father!

His mood didn't improve even at home, even when Miss Naiad read his favorite story, or when Sans tried to play with him. It wasn't the same without his father!

Papyrus refused to sleep without his father there to read to him, but he didn't even have time to even drop off naturally from tiredness before a commotion from outside roused him from bed. Sans followed him, and he peeked out of their bedroom to see more Monsters with armor like Miss Naiad's coming inside, Miss Naiad giving them orders.

Without any sort of explanation, he and Sans were taken outside and spoken over, no one telling them ANYTHING...until their father showed up.

Papyrus didn't know WHAT to think. It didn't seem that long ago that his father was being fawned and worried over, after saving Sparks's life...and now Miss Naiad was looking at him so ANGRILY, and was taking him and Sans away!

"DADDY!" he called as he was being carried away from everything he had ever known. "DADDY!" The Monster holding him didn't let up, wouldn't let him get back to his father, who was falling on the ground again and this time nobody was helping him. He looked helplessly over at Sans, who had his face covered with his hands and was crying softly, and at Miss Naiad, who still looked angry.

He didn't WANT to go with them! He wanted him and Sans to go back home! He wanted his father! He flailed harder, hitting his hands on the Monster's armor. "I WANNA GO HOME!" he shrieked. "I WANT MY DADDY!"

"Paps...don't...!" Sans fretted, trying to shush Papyrus to no avail. Papyrus flailed more, hitting at the Monster's helmet.

"WANNA GO HOME! I WANT MY DADDY! LET GO! LET GO!"

"Kid, please, calm down!" the Monster said, trying to keep a hold of Papyrus. "It's going to be okay!"

"LET GO!" Papyrus shouted again, getting mad that he wasn't being let down. His father ALWAYS let him go when he wanted to be! HE WANTED HIS FATHER. " _LET! GO! NOW!_ "

The last thing the Monster saw was the child's right eyesocket blaze a bright orange before being knocked unconscious from a blow to the back of the head. Papyrus was dropped to the ground, a cluster of bones levitating behind him, quivering along with his clenched fists, ready and waiting to be used.

"I WANNA GO HOME!" Papyrus shouted, stomping his foot childishly, the magic glow in his eyesocket sparking again. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Naiad swallowed hard, getting a bad feeling about the angry young Skeleton being desperate enough to consciously use his magic offensively. She slowly held up her hands, keeping her posture as non-threatening as possible. "Papyrus..." she said softly, "...calm down, alright? We're not going to hurt you."

Papyrus glowered at her, the bones behind him rotating into a horizontal formation for an attack. "I WANT MY DADDY!" he shrieked. "LET ME AN' SANS GO!"

"Bro, please...!" Sans cried, struggling in the Guardsman's hold. "Don't fight! You're gonna get hurt!"

"Listen to your brother, Papyrus!" Naiad pleaded. "We just want you to be safe, we promise! So please, just calm down! Nobody is going to get hurt!"

Papyrus wiped his teary face angrily, the light in his eye not dimming in the slightest. "I WANT MY DADDY! YOU'RE TAKING ME FROM MY DADDY! YOU... _YOU'RE_ THE BAD ONES!" The bones behind him began to tremble and glow slightly. "LEAVE US _ALONE_!"

Naiad managed to dive on two of her Guardsmen and protect them from the hits, but four others took the hits, one of whom took the brunt of most of the damage to the point where the bones caved his helmet in, his body dusting before it hit the ground. "NO! DRACON!" she screamed, reaching helplessly out at his dust pile, her hand shaking with anguish and disbelief.

Papyrus seemed to snap out of his anger when he saw the pile of dust, getting it through his mind what he had just done. The light in his eyesocket fizzled as he stumbled back, tears welling up. "I...I didn't..." he whimpered, pressing his hands to his mouth.

Sans pushed the arm of the Monster that was holding him away, hurrying up to Papyrus and holding his shoulders. "Paps, calm down!" he said urgently. "You have to control your emotions! We're not gonna be hurt! Just calm down!"

"What kind of creature IS that thing?!" one of the Guardsmen sputtered. "No damn kid should have THAT kind of power!"

"That crazy bastard DID make them up in a lab, didn't he?" another put in. "Who knows WHAT kind of things they can do?"

"That's enough!" Naiad snapped, glowering at them. "They are CHILDREN, not THINGS!" She stood up, trying to rein in her emotions, knowing that taking Dracon's death out on Papyrus would only make things worse.

Several of her Guardsmen, however, didn't feel the same way. "What's stopping them from killing the rest of us!?" one of them shouted, drawing his sword. "That insane bastard created these ABOMINATIONS! We need to get rid of them NOW, before he can use them to kill everyone else!"

"FENNEL, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE—!"

Naiad's command went unheeded as the Guardsman charged the two children, swinging his sword back. Sans pushed Papyrus out of the way, his left eyesocket flaring a bright blue as he threw his hand out toward the Guardsman, whose soul suddenly flashed blue through his armor, making him drop to the ground like a rock.

"PAPYRUS, RUN!" Sans shouted, doing the same to another Guardsman. Papyrus cried, shaking his head. "PAPYRUS, I SAID RUN!"

"NO!" Papyrus wailed. "I DON'T WANNA LEAVE YOU TOO, SANS!"

"PAPYRUS, I'M NOT LETTING YOU GET HURT! I'M TRYING TO PROTECT YOU! JUST GET OUT OF HERE, AND GET BACK TO DAD—!" Sans's pleading was cut off when one of the grounded Guardsmen managed to summon his magic-formed arrows and fire it right into Sans's body.

The eyelights in Sans's eyesockets fizzled out completely as his blue magic on the Guardsmen vanished, collapsing back onto the ground.

"GODDAMN IT, NO!" Naiad screamed, driving her fist into the Guardsman's head. "I SAID NO! THEY ARE _CHILDREN_! THEY ARE DEFENDING THEMSELVES, YOU BASTARD!"

Papyrus's hands shook as he walked over to his big brother, tears streaming down his face. "...Sans...?" he whimpered, dropping down to his knees, shaking Sans's shoulder. "...Sans? Sans! Sans, wake up! SANS!" He looked around wildly, realizing that the only help that there could be was from the ones that attacked them, feeling a horrible panicking in his soul, a screaming alarm of instinct ringing in his skull...a deeply-ingrained physical memory of hopelessness, panic, and...

….HATE.

Naiad threw the Guardsman away from her, her fins splaying dangerously at the others in warning. Since Sans wasn't dusting, it was pure luck that the arrow hadn't struck his soul; being a Skeleton, it was a boon to not have any fleshy parts as a huge target, but the arrow obviously hit SOMETHING to put Sans down. Still, Sans was a child and needed medical attention fast.

Papyrus felt a hot fire in his soul become unbearable, his right eyesocket becoming encased in a bright orange flame again. He became aware of the presence of nine souls in his immediate vicinity, and felt his panic swell up again at the sudden hyper-awareness of one of them coming closer.

"GO AWAY!" he screamed, covering his head with his hands, trying to make the feeling GO AWAY. "GET AWAY! LEAVE US ALONE!" Still, the soul came CLOSER.

 _ **"I SAID GET AWAY!"**_

The light in his right eyesocket blazed brightly, and bone spikes jutted up from the ground around him, both creating a wall around him and Sans, and impaling anything in their way.

* * *

Gaster stared blankly at the ground, paying no mind to the Guardsman that was watching him. He could feel a cold emptiness in his soul that only got worse the farther his boys were being taken, and couldn't help but feel that same icy coldness as the day he came back to find his village razed to the ground.

Strange...he recalled being in this very position too...prostrate in grief, feeling ready for death's merciful hand to come and take his soul, to end this suffering.

His breath hitched and his vision swam violently, making him think his soul was finally breaking apart and granting him mercy from this eight-year agony of having only a partial soul...and then he felt hot wetness run down his face and make small wet spots on the ground beneath him.

...tears.

Was he crying? He reached up and touched his face, feeling the wetness on his fingertips. Yes...he was crying, just as he had cried the last time he lost his family.

…..his family...

He stared at his hands, seeing the twin holes in his palms that symbolized the pieces missing from his soul...no. No, they were not missing...they were right there...in physical form, as two children who came into this world by his literal own hands and brought a calmness he had previously never known since his species had been wiped out...two children who managed to make him smile from time to time, and depended on him...and called him 'Daddy'.

Two children...HIS children...who NEEDED him!

He tightened his jaw, clenching his hands and standing up, swaying slightly, disregarding the Cat Monster behind him and began to walk.

"Gaster, stay where you are!" the Guardsman shouted. "As despicable as your actions are, I still do not want to end your life!"

Gaster paused, glancing back. "...My life ended the day my family was taken from me," he told the Guardsman, his face still glistening with tears, the lights in his eyes flaring blue and orange. "...Those boys brought me back to life...and I didn't even NEED to take their mind and body. I'm not going to let my family be taken away again...do you understand me?" He turned back around, walking on.

"Dammit, Gaster, I SAID STOP!" The Guardsman ran for him, drawing his arm back for a strike. Gaster's eyes flared as he threw out his hand, displacing the Guardsman right out of the air and into a nearby rock quarry, ignoring the literal snapping feeling inside his soul at the over-extension of magic, but flinching when he felt two cracks appear around his eyesockets.

It was nothing. He had to get to his children. He had to find them and take them far away from this area...perhaps maybe Snowdin...yes, Lava made it sound like such a nice, quiet place to live...

He was jerked out of his musings when he felt a searing hot throbbing in his soul that almost put him on his knees. His hands flew to his chest, the vision in his right eye going hyper-sharp.

Right eye...his orange magic...

PAPYRUS!

Ignoring the fact that he was going to be paying for it later, Gaster broke into a run, following the echoing pulse of his soul piece to find Papyrus, skidding to a halt when he saw a wall of bone spikes and the air thick with dust.

"Papyrus..." he stammered, his knees going weak. Not his sweet Papyrus...he couldn't have done this...! He stumbled forward toward the bone wall. "Papyrus!" He tread on faster when he heard loud hiccuping sobs coming from behind the bone wall, peering through the few inches of space between the bones, his soul jolting at what he saw.

Papyrus was sobbing into his hands, kneeling in front of Sans, who was lying back on the ground with what looked like an arrow shot through his body. Only the fact that Sans wasn't dusted yet stopped Gaster from completely breaking down, but knowing that he wasn't there to stop this from happening to his boys tore him apart just as badly.

He dropped to his knees, reaching through the bones. "...Papyrus...!" he choked out. Papyrus looked up sharply, his right eyesocket blazing orange with enough intensity to make it look like it was hurting the young bones, and Gaster knew it HAD to be. "Papyrus...I'm here..." Gaster said softly, holding out his hand. "You...you can calm down now..." Tears ran down his face.

"Daddy's here now, Papyrus...I'm here..."

The light in Papyrus's eyesocket fizzled and dimmed, the bones crumbling around him and Sans. "DADDY!" he sobbed, reaching out for Gaster. Gaster scrambled forward, holding Papyrus tightly, resting one hand on Sans's rib cage, letting out a sob of relief when he felt the soul still pulsing strongly. The arrow must have nicked his bone and put him into shock. He clasped his hands around the arrow, his orange eye blazing as he made it crumble into ash, scooping Sans up to him too.

"Daddy's here..." he murmured, his body shaking with magical exhaustion but having the two souls back so near his own keeping it from breaking like he knew it should be by this point. "It's okay now, I'm here..." He held them both tightly, looking up and feeling his body tense when he saw Asgore on the other end of the clearing.

The day had been a massive trip from start to finish. After Gaster's expertise in souls had saved the life of Lava's youngest child, he had collapsed and Alphys had been horrified to see the state his soul was in. Even though the two young Skeletons were worried sick about Gaster, Asgore had Naiad bring them home and get them settled.

Not too long ago, he received word from her messenger Guardsman that she found extremely disturbing and incriminating evidence about what he planned to do with the kids, and how. Feeling immense disappointment that Gaster had not changed his mind about those children, he gave his reluctant permission to take the children away, just as he had promised he would eight years ago.

Not twenty minutes after giving the permission, Alphys called in a panic because Gaster had left her lab and was heading to his home, and Asgore then dropped everything and ran to intercept himself.

And now here he was, staring at a mess of crumbled bone and dust-coated armor, his soul throbbing painfully when he recognized Naiad's set, immediately thinking to the child that was left behind, dozing in the courtyard fountain, waiting for her to come home. And the worst part was, it wasn't even Gaster that did it. It was a frightened child lashing out that did, and that child was holding onto Gaster for dear life.

Gaster was staring at him from across the clearing, the lights in his eyesockets flickering with an air of fear and anger that Asgore could practically feel. But the fear and anger wasn't for Gaster himself...no, Asgore could see even from this distance, in the way Gaster held onto the children that the fear and anger was for THEM.

Fear of having them hurt. Anger at having them taken so harshly.

Asgore realized with a flash of shame that Gaster HAD changed his mind about them, and that what Naiad had found was very likely expired evidence of past opinions, and that this could have been avoided if Asgore hadn't so readily accepted Gaster's demands for it to never come up again. Gaster had changed...his willingness to have the children interact with others, allowing HIMSELF to interact with others, and his parental instincts proved that.

And now ten Royal Guardsmen were dead, among them one of his best and closest of friends...ten more families suffering more than they had to.

Asgore looked back at Gaster before lowering his head, stepping forth only to pick up Naiad's helmet from the pile of dust before stepping back, giving Gaster a clear indication that this matter would be officially closed, and silently walked away, already making mental plans to have the dust and helmets collected for the grieving families later.

Gaster let out a breath he wasn't aware that he was holding, gathering his strength and picking the boys up, turning from the carnage to make the long and painful trek back home. It seemed to take forever and a day before he finally managed to collapse back on the couch, fighting to keep consciousness as he gently and carefully summoned Sans's soul forth to make sure it was undamaged.

When he found that it was, he sighed, leaning back on the couch with both children held close enough to feel the echo of their souls with his own, dropping off to sleep, feeling the pain of his own soul gently heal over.


	8. Chapter 8

Although the guards that were on patrol at the castle front were instructed to allow Dr. Gaster passage through, they still kept their weapons clenched tightly in their hands, an air of offense and anger over their heads. Even a year after the death of their Captain of the Royal Guard and nine other of their compatriots that was officially ruled as an accident by King Asgore, the sting of such a heavy loss still hurt, and even more so that the cause, so they thought, was being allowed into the castle seemed to add insult to injury.

The guards remained stoically on edge as the summoned guest made his way up the steps, but their anger faded to fear upon sight of him, slowly backing away as he ascended the stairs, almost looking like he was gliding under the thick cloak he wore that did little to mask his almost tangible presence. Only well after he was inside the castle did they finally breathe easy, though their hands still shook hard.

Asgore tended quietly to his flowers in the courtyard, only the sound of a door opening alerting him to his guest's presence. He sighed softly, emptying the watering can and straightening up. He had been surprised when Gaster sent him a letter asking to meet with him, and it was only the cordial tone of the letter paired with the shaky writing that made him accept. There was just a pleading urgency in the request that even now Asgore didn't have the heart to deny.

"You wished to speak with me, Gaster?" he asked, turning around and promptly dropping his watering can, unconsciously taking a step back at what he saw.

Gaster stood there quietly in the middle of the courtyard, his once tall, proud frame now hunched like an elderly Monster, draped in a thick black cloak to hide most of his no doubt frail form. Only his hands and face were visible, and those were enough to almost give Asgore a metaphorical heart attack. Gaster's hands were thin and claw-like, looking hardly strong enough to hold anything anymore, but they were nothing compared to his skull.

What stood out most were two large cracks, one running from the top of his right eyesocket to the top of his skull, and the other from the bottom of his right to his mouth, which was missing nearly all of his teeth, only the molars remaining.

Asgore could feel his body shaking as he looked upon Gaster, not knowing what to say, what to DO...what was the proper reaction to seeing something like this!? "I...you..." he stammered.

Gaster broke the ice, walking—gliding, it seemed—over to the table and sitting himself down, folding his hands on the surface. "Do not censor yourself over my appearance, Asgore," he said softly, his voice soft and low, and sounding slightly glitched in an undertone of the primitive Skeleton language that seemed to be naturally easier, considering his state. "I am well aware of what I look like."

Asgore swallowed hard, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to not shake as he walked over to the table and took a seat at the other end. "...what happened?" was all he asked.

Gaster quietly drummed his fingers on the table, the movement fluid and elegant despite their aged appearance. "...what naturally happens, when one's soul is about to expire," he replied matter-of-factually. "My actions a year ago have had consequences on my soul, and has sped up the process of decay. Accounting in at using no more magic than necessary to keep my body from completely deteriorating...I have, at most, another year to live."

The king buried his face in his hands, biting back a groan of emotional pain. "...Oh...oh gods, Wingdings..." he muttered, shaking his head. "...Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"It would have helped none," Gaster replied quietly. "I've come to terms with the fact now, Asgore. It was...more difficult informing my children." He sighed. "Sans is much more pragmatic...he accepts the natural order of things. Papyrus...well...he may have to have his memories of me erased, when the time comes."

Asgore looked up sharply, frowning. "Have his memories erased? What are you saying?"

"Do you really think I would let him suffer the horror of him killing the Guardsmen? Of killing Naiad?" He shook his head. "Sans and Papyrus are of my soul, and as such, I am able to do something like that."

"That's...Wingdings, I can understand the REASON why, but to do something like that—"

"I don't do it simply because I CAN, Asgore," Gaster said, folding his hands together. "If that were STILL the case, I would have transferred my consciousness into Papyrus months ago, when my body began this rapid decay. I did it for his own good." He sighed, lowering his head.

"...Papyrus is too pure, too good to have something like that on his conscience. He was only four years old, Asgore...you must understand something like that."

Asgore sighed, nodding. "...I do," he replied. "I apologize for my assumptions."

"...You don't need to," Gaster said, reaching over and touching Asgore's hand. "...I have committed...terrible sins, Asgore...every day, I feel them crawling on my back, dragging me further and further into my inevitable dust pile, and I truly belong there, for what I've done."

"Wingdings..."

"My only regret...is that I wont be there to watch my wonderful sons grow up and be HAPPY..." His breath hitched, a black-stained tear running down his right cheekbone. "But that is the price I pay, for being so selfish to begin with."

"No," Asgore said firmly. "You DON'T deserve this. You DON'T. What is happening to you is TRAGIC, not JUST. No matter how late you find true happiness, it should still be yours to enjoy. So please...don't...don't tell me that you DESERVE this."

Gaster wiped his face dry, smiling weakly. "Nyuh huh huh...that's...nice to hear, from someone besides Sans..." he replied, then went quiet for a long while. "...Asgore...can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my friend."

"Will you...please promi̷se̶ m͠e̷ y̛͎̝͘ơ̱̙̱͔̭u͈͢ ̵̡̖w̨̘̗̱͔͚̟͟͝ͅi҉̞l̶̡̦̗l̸̮͇͙͇̫̞͖̰̺͢ ̶͚͎͢ t̫̪̫̪̯̦̠͜a̶̗̘͇͕͔̥̞͓͝ͅk̛͟͏̤̭͙̮̝̻̟̳͢e̶̴̙̞̤̞̩̖͈͇͡ ̴̩̠̜̭̖͕̮̲͠c̴̱̖̰͖̩͓̤̙̥͝a̸̶̴̧͓͕̭͇͙͎̱͔̞͓͈͉͈̻͍̩ͅr̨̝̭̯̫͈͇̭̫̪̥̩̳͘͢͜e̴̛͔̦̞̟͚̳̗̳̜̫̥͇̖̪̮̣̱ ̛͉̫͎̠̰͎̪̱̫̻̝̰̀ͅo̶̢̱̼̗͖̜͚̰̹͕͝͡ͅf̨҉̜̺͔̤̼͖͟ ̡͙͙̺̮̜̫̲͔̥̝̞͟t̖͈̗̝͔͎̲̟͓̞͚͍̖͕͓́͜͠͞ͅͅḩ͟҉͎̖͓̩͖̟̼̲͕͇̮̞͚e҉̡͕̟̦̝̀m̵̛̛̹̟̣̝͚̼̞͚͉͇̳ͅͅ ̴̷̙̮̺̰͉̺̯͈̭͈̹̗͉̫͜͝f̨̡̗͇͕̝̫͉̳̬̹͕͚̣̗̟̼͍͔̤͞ͅo̷̸̻̰͍̫͚̮̣̠͔̼͝r̢͜҉̵̦̱̰͙͔̪̠̝͍͢ ̷̨̗͓̗͈̞̖̝͉͈̰͔͈̬̬͟m̴̡̢͜҉̬͚͔̩͍̫̘̳̫̣̖͖͉͙͚͚e͏̀҉̧̜̣͈̞̘͖͇̬̺͈͔̱́ "

Asgore's eyes widened, his hands shaking when an unnatural sound left Gaster's throat, muting his friend's request into a haunting overtone of something he couldn't understand...like the words were there but his mind refused to translate for him.

Gaster's hands left Asgore's, pressing them to his mouth, looking horrified and sad...so very sad. He gave Asgore a helpless look before standing, turning as though shamed, and heading away.

"Wingdings, don't...!" Asgore cried, standing up and following, holding Gaster's shoulders gently, too afraid to do ANYTHING lest he break his old friend. "Please...let me help you."

Gaster's helpless look only grew more pitiful as he shook his head slowly, unable to communicate to the king that he had miscalculated his time left. Reverting back to his species' primitive speech only meant he had but mere days...a couple of weeks if he was lucky, left. He wouldn't even be able to write what he wanted to say.

He slowly took Asgore's hands and removed them from his shoulders, giving the king a brave smile before inclining his head to indicate his thanks at being heard, quietly walking out of the courtyard and out of the castle, heading back to Hotlands to fetch his children from Lava's home.

A loud alarm sounded within minutes of him arriving, turning sharply, knowing what that particular alarm meant. He had only heard it once before, almost a decade ago, when he put out a test broadcast to let everyone know when that alarm sounded, it would mean that the Core was disrupted, and the Monsters should vacate for Waterfall and Snowdin as soon as possible.

His old science group was up there. His CHILDREN were here!

Gathering what strength he had left, he took off for the Core, seeing several scientists running around, trying to find a way to contain the impending disaster. Among them was Alphys, who was shouting at someone to 'get those kids out of here!'.

Kids?

Gaster ran past everyone else, his soul seizing when he found Sans and Papyrus, along with several other kids who were probably just here for a sight-seeing, huddled together looking terrified. He ran over to the group, ignoring the cries of fear from some of the young Monsters, addressing his sons frantically.

B̎̊҉̺̤͙͍͔͕̱̀͡O̤̩̱̫̬̤̞͓̣͑̆̈ͨ̈́́͠Y̝͕̤̹̊ͦ̄́ͪ̂̐̊͘S̷̥͍ͦ̃ͣ̄̑͘!̨̛͖͔̜͂̈ͨ͆͆ ̛͈̯͓ͯ̔ ̠̲̰̖ͮY͎ͧ̄͜Ọ̶̬̱̠̟̆͑̅͘͟U͗̔ͨͣ̐ͥ͏̖̥̦̘͡ ̧͉̲̐̔̓̑̀͜H͚̘̬̟͔̯̘̒́̏ͩͮ̏ͬ̕͠ͅÀ̷̛̙̬͚̒͐̆̒̌̊͑͡V̴̸̶̩͇͛̏͑͗Ę̣͙̲̆ͦ͋ͫ̃̌̽͡͡ ͔̿ͪ͌ͫT̵̘͇̟̠͓̻ͨ̎̃̔̃͗͆̄̊Õ̤̼͇ͬ̒̌ ̶͖̩̱̒ͨĢͤͨͭ̃͒̅ͫ̒̓̀͏̩̞Ȩ̧͉̜ͣͪ̀T̒̉͏̵͈̳̘͍̹ ̲ͦͣͩ̇̐́̅͊͋O̗͍ͪ̆Ų͉̫̲̣́̑ͅT̮̣͎̙̩͕̞̣̎́ ̬̪ͭ̋͊͌̽͠Ő̶̶̧̟͇̭ͤͬ̾̓F̹̤̟̗̍̌ͮ̉ ̤̩̲̳̙̠͍͂͂ͣ̈́̃͊̅ͫ͂̀Ĥͨͬ̽̃̔̀͂̑͏̦̳͚̼͎Ȇ̴͓̲̙̞̗͕̋͐ͫ̅̕R̛̫̆͐̋ͅE̗̟̖͖̺͈̖̒̓̎ͫͮ͛ͫ͠ ̤̞̼͉͚̹ͣ͑̉ͯ͊ͪ̚N͚̰̼̝͋ͩ͌Ō̸̞͈̜͔͚͙̲ͧͧ̚͘͝W̡͉͕̺̯̩̮͇̰͓̍ͫͪ͑̃͜!̻͑̊ͤ̀ͦ͆͠

That seemed to cause more fear and confusion, but to Gaster's shock, Sans answered back, b̧̻̭̬͎̱̼u҉̷̝͢t̲̖ ̴̩̱̳̱̮̦w̵͇̯̯̼h͖̩͡a̴̪̼̝̥̲̲̞͉̜͘t͝͏͙̻̗̫͝ ͠͝҉̻̬̙̫͚̬͎̮͍a̝͎͘͡ḅ͉̮̩̗̣o̝̗̠̘̭͍̕u͖̯t̪̻̱͚̤̝̱̫ ̧͔̱̤y̮̹ǫ͕̬̩͔̩̼̕̕u͙͉̥͓͖͇?̧̝̮͔̮̟͞

T̷̼͇̄̒̿̿H̺̳̲͂͗ͨͥ͌ͪÅ̌̉͌̀̐ͫ̃́̚҉̭̗̗̹T̷̵̪ͬ͑ͣ͗͗̈́̚ ̸̛̤̣̫̰̜̳̯̠̾̌͞Ǐ̢̫̣̯̫̲̺͎͔̤͆͘S̱̙̳̯̹ͣ̌ ̺̱͉̘̞̌̏̅͜N̶̩͕̦̦̹͍̹͓͗̌̓͑̆̓͟O̶̷̘̩̝̲̦̝̾͆ͮ́̓ͨ̐͘T͗ͩ̇ͦ͒͐҉͏̹͚̪͙ ̶̶͉̝̞̒ͥ͊͘I͈͍̙͚̦͓̬̊̋̃̾̆̈̀͝ͅM̢̜̠̱͙͔̈͂̿ͭ̽͌͠͡Ṗ̧͎̀͜O͕̗̗͗͌̔̈̈ͫ͘͝͞R̠̰͖̞̲̗̣͑ͨ͐͗͊̄͌͡ͅT̨͖̭̜͕̫̺̩̩̮͐ͣA̸̡̬̭͛̈ͭ͂N̸ͣͥ͗̑̎͝͏͔̤T̶͉͖̼̗̯͓ͮͭͣ͋ͣ͝ ̩̱̥͚̖ͭ̿̇̐̎̃̌͝R͐̑͒ͮͣ͐̔͗͊҉̫͈̦̟̤̼̱̠̤͝Ȉ̞̮̫ͭ̇͒̑̽͂̈̍͜͟G̭̘̼̼̠͉͍̎̂̿̚͟H̛̜͙̝̣͇̜̫ͭT̟͒͟ ̜̺̯͈̫̥̫̠ͭ͒̿ͨ̅̂̄͜͠͡N͓̼̤̦̩͔̙ͭ͆̃̈͒͒̔Ǫ̮̤̜͕͔̗̰̐ͮ͝ͅW̟͙͔̜̻̗̫̮̖͐̓͂!̸̟̯̽̾͛ ̢̺͉̗̰͒ͭ̏̊ ͎͍̀ͭͩ̓́ͩͪ͜G̳̼̝̖̲̱ͨ̍ͯ̾͟͠Ẹ̩̖̦̺͉̪̤̽͛ͨ͘͝T̩͚̣̭̘̟̦̰ͬ͌ͩ́̏ͬͮ̊ ̢̙̜͉̦̆ͣ́̋ͤY̮̺̲̪̾̒̈́͋̔̀O̍ͥ̀͏̖̫͉̗̻̭͇U͓̺̺͔̪̼ͮ͆͆͌̕͟ͅR͓̥̦ͭ̀͋̿͘͝ ̘̪͓̦̣̝ͥ̊ͭ̀Bͥ̐ͪͫ҉́͏͚̳̣͔̣̩R̥͎ͯ̀̑̔̾Ȏ̲̝̹̩ͥ͋͐͑ͩ̂ͦ̚͞͞T̙̞͉͚̘̘̹͚ͨ͑͜H̷͚͉̤͇̞̝̙͙͆̾̇ͣ͌ͬͫ̉̄Ę̪͖̘̺ͨ̾̏̽̄̊͆R̎ͯ̍͒͌̚͏͖͙̫̰͕̝͚ ̉͂͏̧̻͎̗̘̭̮̮̣̯A̧̖̐́ͪ͆̾͢͠N̩̦̈ͮ͊̀D̶̨̦̗̊͂͒̈̒͂͋ ̶̤̳̼̥͍͈ͧͨ͗͆ͭ͗͠ͅṮ̨̞͇͈̗ͪ̾ͭ̅ͨ͐̓̽̚H̷͙̩̺ͨ͌̓̂ͨ͐ͅÈ̘̜̻̞̹̩̖̽ͮͤͤ̑͆̉ͅ ̢͉̫͓̇ͮ̒̿̂̈͗͆̇̀O̠̝̱̭̾͊̐͋ͣ̅ͬ̀͝T̴̶̟̤͇͎̠̹̞̄̓ͯ̿ͮ̎̈̚H̵̳ͭ͘͟E͔̻̮͎͈͓ͣ̂̆͒̏̾ͣ͜R͕͔͕̬̥̐͂̉̈̂́Sͪ̉̅ͦ̏͏̟͓͍͚̭͔͎ ̛͉̦̪̱͋͂ͫ̉ͬ͠T̞̟͙͂͌̒̆̔͞ͅO̭̦͓̮̯̥͍ͩ̋̌̿ͅ ̡̡͉̥̫͚̽̓̐̌ͥ͋͆͒S̒ͮ̇ͤ҉̳̰̰̹̞͈̳͓̹͢A͉̪̙̒͆́̃̌̓͘͝ͅF̢̙̤̹̱̣͇ͩ̉ͬͨ͗̿̑̑̏́Ȅ̢͎̬̅ͭ̅Ṭ̡̥̝͖̩ͨ̿ͮ͂̇͊̓ͅY̨̲̰̾̿̚͝!̴̦ͨ

b̩̳ͅu̘̮̰̻̦ṭ̛̬̖͖͔͍ͅ ̟̼̘̘͉̞̬͠d̵͓͙̰a̪͝d͠-̣͖̜̺̲-͈͖̩

J̬̻̗ͭ͆̂̃̀͟͠U̴̬̬͍̫̬͉̯͋͡S̈̒͊͑ͤ̅̔͒҉̫͉̺̠̞̤̪͖̟̕T̡̛̺͖̩͕̐̔͑͂́̓͊͝ ͔͌ͧͣ̋̄̽ͭG̺͉͈̗̜̼ͦ̀̇̌̆̚O̶̶̗̤̤̗̎͆ͥͭ̑̔͝ͅ!͖͇̹̰͇̮̐̃ͣ̽ͨ̀͠ ̪͚̹͉͆̋ͣ͛ͧ̄́̿̚ ͕͖̯̮͖̼͖̍͆̏̽̆͂̑͌́̕N̜̼͒̑͆͟Ơ̛̫̜̻̹̬̣̹̏ͨ̀̐̎ͭͪẈ̴̴̢͋̽͗̌ͥͫͣ!̢͔͇̖̟͂ͥ̀́ͅ

Sans wiped his eyes, an unwitting sense of understanding in his eyelights as he nodded and pulled Papyrus up, shouting at the kids to hurry out the emergency back exit. Gaster turned back to the railing around the Core, a hand clasped to the front of his cloak, feeling his soul start to crack.

In front of him was the unstable Core, which would probably decimate all of Hotlands if it ruptured...and behind him was Papyrus, once again, crying out for him...but this time, he knew he wasn't going to be coming back.

Gaster's eyes blazed in his dual magic colors, honing his will into the Core, and finding the cause of the disruption—a piece of faulty energy-extraction equipment. Easily replaceable, but apparently never been inspected during his decade-long absence. Yet another thing to add to his ever-growing list of failures.

Shoving aside his guilt, he did a quick calculation and figured that if he displaced the equipment before it completely broke, it would serve as a hint to what needed to be replaced. Worst-case scenario, the Underground would be without power for a few days, a couple weeks, tops.

But that would be displacing it...using the Void again, something he wasn't entirely sure he had the magical strength to pull off anymore. But it was save this facility, the Hotlands, and everyone in it...or die trying.

And he already knew he had but days anyway.

Gaster steeled his resolve, praying for his soul to allow him this ONE LAST TRANSACTION, and focused all of his will on the equipment, reaching into the Void and out the other end...

THERE

The white-hot equipment piece appeared next to him on the landing, and immediately the facility began to lose power in any area that did not have emergency generated backup source. The Core began to quiver before simmering down, the disruption pacified.

Gaster could feel his soul's will begin to give in, and by this point, he was happy to follow it. He swayed numbly on the landing, looking up when he heard a muted gasp behind him, turning just enough to see a glimpse of Alphys staring at him with horrified eyes.

"...Dr. Gaster...?"

That was all he heard before he lost all senses, his balance leaving him as he toppled off of the landing and down toward the liquid magma. Time seemed to slow and crawl, dragging out his demise almost cruelly. Ah, well...it served him right, he supposed...

 _"DADDY!"_

His eyes snapped upward, seeing Papyrus leaning over the railing, arm outstretched as Sans held him back.

And in that moment, Gaster wanted more than anything to LIVE, if just for a few moments more to hug his children.

Simultaneously, he weakly willed to displace HIMSELF, and hit the magma, feeling the searing pain EVERYWHERE...and then at once, nothing at all.


	9. Chapter 9

_This was...strange._

 _Was this death? An endless, dark blackness, where he couldn't feel, hear, see, or sense anything? Being completely and utterly alone?_

 _Yes...this had to be Hell. The Hell he deserved._

 _But everyone was safe...Alphys saw the part that needed to be replaced...she was smart, and would make sure everything would be fine._

 _Gods...if only he had enough time left to comfort his children...he didn't want them to see him like that..._

 _Sans...Papyrus..._

 _The blackness around him flickered and seemed to dissolve like ink in water, a hazy light appearing around him. What was this? What was happening? He crept closer to the light, finally, at long last, hearing something. It sounded like muted voices, crying softly._

 _Who was crying? Why were they crying?_

 _He parted from the blackness and into the light, the brightness blinding him for a moment before it settled into a familiar-looking scene._

 _Sans and Papyrus were curled up on the couch together, their faces streaked with tears. Papyrus had a red scarf tied snugly around his head, lying down on the cushion, looking lifeless and listless. Sans sat with him, quietly petting his head, not looking any more livelier but trying to be brave._

 _There they were...his boys...! He glided over, reaching out for them—then drew his hands back when they passed right through their bodies._

 _No...what was this?! What fresh Hell WAS this!?_

 _In front of him, Sans's breath hitched, looking up and wiping his eyes, looking confused, as though something had snapped him out of his misery. The boy looked around, but saw nothing._

 _ **S̵a͠n̷s̴̸..͏.̨͟s̨̛͠on͞,̸̸ ̵̧̀I̸͟͠'́͝m̵̀͝ he̶̛͘r̶̶e͜҉.̨..͘͟͠!** Gaster cried, trying to touch his son's skull again, but again, his hand passed right through the boy's form again. Sans reached up and rubbed his head, shaking it before turning back to Papyrus, tucking the scarf more snugly around the younger Skeleton's shoulders._

 _ **P̢͘͞a͝p̢̛͡y͏̵̧r̷̸̨u̵͟s.̶͞.͟͠.͢D̵҉ą̧͡d̨̧d҉y'̴̴̛s̴ ̵́͘h҉̀e͜͏̴r͟͝é!̧̡͢ ̶̕ ͞͝Ṕ̛͏l͏eà̸s̕͟e̷̡͠,̷̀ ̵̷̛s̷e͞͞ȩ̴ m̵e.̵̛͜.҉̕҉.̧̀!̸͞** he said, trying to rest his hands on Papyrus's body, to no avail. Papyrus curled up tighter, sniffling._

 _Why couldn't he touch them? They were right THERE! And it was obvious that Sans felt SOMETHING...!_

 _Gaster looked at his hands, shaking his head in denial. He couldn't just NOT be here! This couldn't be how death worked! If he wasn't dead, and wasn't alive then..._

 _His head shot up, remembering with a jolt his last action before that dark, numb blackness. He had tried to displace HIMSELF, at the same moment he fell into the magma, both of which should have shattered his soul._

 _He paused, his hands going to his chest as he felt for his soul, feeling a deep numbness when he sensed that he STILL HAD ONE._

 _So...he WASN'T dead._

 _Then what WAS he?_

 _Soft voices outside his house broke his musings, and he glided over to the door, and promptly right through it like it wasn't even there. On the other side was Alphys and a few other Monsters, most he recognized as parents from the play date group._

 _"...so there was no dust to even collect after," Alphys was saying softly, wringing her hands. "...not that I would want there to be, after that."_

 _"Those poor boys," Lava said, liquid fire tears dripping from her eyes. "It was bad enough they lost Gaster, but to witness it...!"_

 _"Sans is being surprisingly strong and mature, considering," Alphys said, glancing back at the door. "...but Papyrus...he...hasn't spoken a word since. It's understandable...he's only five...but I'm worried. I don't even think he's eating or sleeping either." She leaned against the wall. "...I don't know what to do."_

 _Lava glanced at the door. "...Kelvin and I will be moving to Snowdin soon...perhaps...a change in scenery is what they need right now. A new start. We would be happy to take them in."_

 _"Are you sure, Lava?" another Monster asked, looking wary. "I've...heard rumors of what happens when they become upset...I mean, Naiad—"_

 _"Sparks accidentally sets things on fire when he overexerts himself, and Grillby used to become an inferno when he threw a tantrum! Untrained magic can be dangerous, and I don't blame them a bit!" Lava snapped. "It was an accident, what happened to Naiad. That's all there is to it."_

 _Alphys sighed. "All that aside," she cut in, "we need to talk to the boys first...I don't want to cause anymore damage than has already been done." She opened the door and went back inside, running back out moments later. "THEY'RE GONE!"_

 _WHAT!?_

 _Gaster hurried back inside, seeing that Sans and Papyrus weren't on the couch anymore. He panicked. Where were they!? WHERE HAD THEY GONE TO!?_

 _Almost at the moment he thought that, he was yanked back into the blackness and then thrust forward into a new light, looking around after the disorientating trip to see that he was just off the edge of the garbage dump in Waterfall._

 _The image was almost nostalgic; he recalled coming here with Sans and Papyrus when Papyrus was still a baby bones, to root around the place for something to entertain the boys with. It was a time before the play group, when he wanted as few as possible to know about his sons' existences._

 _The air here was cool and serene, a literal breath of fresh air after being in Hotlands for so long. Papyrus even stayed quiet the whole trip, lost in the serenity of the place, making a fuss only when he saw something in the piles he wanted._

 _Sound to his left made him turn to investigate, feeling a heavy sense of relief when he saw Sans and Papyrus in a tucked-back crevice by the cavern wall, Sans having pilfered a large umbrella and angled it so it made a makeshift lean-to._

 _"It's okay, bro," Sans said, tugging a blanket out of a backpack and tucking it around his little brother. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." He patted Papyrus's skull and shifted out of the little shelter, searching around nearby piles for anything of use._

 _Gaster felt a heaviness in his soul; he knew Sans was afraid of what would happen to him and Papyrus now that he was gone, and took them to the next safest place he knew of._

 _Heh...he KNEW Sans could teleport..._

 _But his children were here now, holing up in the garbage dump like vagabonds...and there was nothing he could do to help them._

 _As Sans picked through the piles, Gaster gently glided over to Papyrus, settling down close to him, at least happy he could be so near even if he couldn't touch them. He wanted nothing more than to take Papyrus's pain away, to erase the sight of seeing his death from the boy's mind for good._

 _ **I͜ ̴̵͜a̸̡m ͏s̀͢ơ͠͠ ̷̡s͏o͘͢r̛͝ry͏̢,̀ ̡̨P̸a̢͘͜p̛y̵̢͝ŕ̡͘u̶s̢͠.̷.́.** he said softly, petting at the air around Papyrus's head. He sighed when Papyrus gave no indication of hearing and sat back, pausing when something caught his eye._

 _Sans had stood upright, his hands clutching an over-sized blue jacket, staring at a nearby echo flower with an expression that could only be described as 'seeing the dead'. Gaster frowned when Sans began looking around wildly, stepping around some piles._

 _"...Dad...?" Sans called out quietly, his voice shaking. Gaster stood up, gliding over to him, standing right in front of him, even._

 _ **S͏̀͟a̴͘ǹ͢s̀.̵̡́.͏̷.̀͢c͡a̷̢̢n̢ ҉̵͏y̡o͢u͝ ̸̢͜h́͟e͞͞ą̀̕r ̡m̵̵ę̸͞.͏͡..̛?̵͞҉** he murmured in amazement. Instead of looking at HIM, Sans's head jerked back in the direction of the echo flower before he ran over to it, his shaking hands hovering over it, not knowing what to do._

 _"Dad...!" Sans choked out, tearing up. "Dad...is that you? Dad...?"_

 _Gaster suddenly understood. Somehow...the echo flowers were picking up on his words, even though what was separating him from this world was keeping him from being heard normally. He quietly glided over to the other side of the flower._

 _ **S͜͝a̴̢͢n͏s҉.̴̴.҉̛͞.͢Í͢͝ ̛a͜͟m͝͝ ̕̕͠hè͟͟r̨͜e̵͘.̕͜** _

_Sans choked up, a hand covering his mouth. "...Dad..." he gasped, then went silent for a moment. Da͡d.̕.̛.̀w͜h̡ęre ͠ar͞e̶ y͘ou͝? he asked, switching to the Skeleton language. Smart boy, Gaster thought, smiling. In case the echo flowers could relay Sans's words elsewhere in Waterfall._

 _ **I͡ ̡̕a͘҉͟m ̕͏h҉̶e̷r҉e͜,͞ Sa̛ǹ͜s̀...̴͏bu̸͝t̕͠ ̵I̶̧̧ ̧͜a̡͡m ҉̢n҉̸ơt̵́ h́e̴͜ŗ̧́e͠҉. ̕ ̧I̢͢t̵̛ ̨̛i̧͏s̡͠.̷́͘.͏.̴҉d̴͘͠i͘ff̷͜͜i͘͝c̵̀͘u͏̢͟l҉t ͜t͡o ̕e͏͢͡x̴͜͞p͡l̕a͡i̵͜͜n͟**. He sighed, shaking his head. **W̸̸e ҉a̵r͘͝ę̨ ̸̸s͡é̶̴pa͟r͘a̴͘t̕e̢͠d͠ ̡bý ̛͞͏so͏ḿ͞e͘thí̧҉n҉͘͘g̕,̴ ͡S҉án͢͠s͏͞.͠..̛́s̷ǫ͘m҉̷e̶t̕͡h̛͢i҉҉̶n͟g̷ ̨I͝ ̵͘͝c̴͠a͢͟͞nǹot̵ b͘r͘͜e҉̷a̢͞k̕͞͝ ̀͢͞t͢͝͞h̀͡͡r̵̸͠oú͡ģ́h̴̕͠.҉** _

_Sans dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. I͢.̢..̨don't͘ un͏d̷ęrs̨tand͏...! he cried, his shoulders shaking. D͠a͡d̡.҉..I d̡oǹ't k͝now ͞w͡ha̴t̵ t͘o ̷do! ̵ Y̶ou'̸re̸ ͟n̡ot̀ ͡h̛e̴r̨e̷,͏ ͏D̵a̢d...͜Í don'҉t k͜n̛ow ҉wh̵at ̴to̧ do! He looked around helplessly. P̡a͏p͞yrus̵.̢..he̴...he ̷won't̡ ́e̴a͞t..͘.̶.̨hè woǹ'͠t̷ ͝talk.͝..͡.I̛ c͢an feel̢ ̸hi̴s҉ sou̧l g͡et̀ti̧ng weaḱer͏ ͡a̷n̨d ̡we̕aker͞.̵.͠.a̛nd̷...̷ He let out a fresh sob. ..͟.̀I ̛do̧n't͏ ̡kǹow wha̴t I c͝a͟n̨ d͘o t͘o ̡maḱe͢ him ͞b͝etter!͜ ͞ I̢ NEED y̶ou,͠ D͠ad!͜ W͘E ne͟e̵d yo͢ù!_

 _Gaster dropped down in front of Sans, his hands hovering over the small Skeleton's form. **.̵͘͞.͘..͠I̴͘͠ c̵a҉ǹ̡'҉t͏ ̧b͏̨̛e̴ ̵̴he̕͟r̶͟͡e̴͟ ́̀ţ̧o̴̷ d͏͏o ́́́wh̨̛͝ąt̢̛ ̨I͡ ͜͞w͞͞a̶͠n͞ţ̛͏,̵̛ ̀S̴͟an͏́s.͏͠.̵͠.** he said softly. **B͏u̴̢t͟͡.̕..if̡ y̨o͞ư̴ w̕͞͝á͜ǹt to ̛́h̸̸̡e͏͝l͢p͟͡ P̛͟͝ap̢͝y̵͢rù͟s̶̡.̨.҉.̴I̧ ̴̡̨knǫ͞͞w̷͠ ̵̕h̴ow҉ ̵͢͡y͜o̢̧u ͝͞҉c҉a͏͞n̡.͟** _

_Sans looked up, his gaze focusing on the flower, but to Gaster's position, it looked like he was looking him in the face. Tell ͏m͞e͞.͟..!͜ he said firmly. F͞òr ́Pap҉yru͜s.҉..te͝lĺ m̀e.͜.͜.h̡o҉w̵ I͡ c̸an h̀elp͏ ͞P̡a͟pyr̢us̀.̧.͝!_

 _Gaster brushed his hands through Sans's skull, wishing the motion could do more than be a ghost's intangible touch. **E̸̴͜r͝a̡sę͠ ̛͟͝m͡͝e̴͞ ́͠҉f̕r͟͠͏om̀͡ ̛h̀͡į̀͜ś͢ ̶m҉e̢͝m̷͏or̡y** he said, his voice full of sad determination. Ẁ **h̛at̡ h̸e ̷́̕w̵̢i̕̕͟ll͏ ̶̡͠h͏̨á̡v̵e̕ ͞͏̶a̶̕͢r͞e̶ ́̕me͘m̛̕͝oŕ͝i̛̕ȩ͟͡s ͢of a̸̧ h̴͏a̢̢p͜͟py̡͝ ͘҉̸c͞͠ḩ̀́i͡l̷d͏͟h̸̸͢o̵ơ͟͟d̸̢͟,̸̴̴ ̛w̵̴i͡t̸͏h̨ ͟h̷̨͝iś͘ b̶͘͟i̵͞g ̴̀br̷̸òt̸̛ḩ͞e̸͟r̛ ̧͜͢Sán̷̶s.̴̧͜ ̡͜ T̨͜h̀a̕t̴ ̷̧͡i̢s͝ ̸͢͝àl̀l̀̕ ̴h͝e͟͞ ͏͘͝w͟͠i̶̧̢l̵̵l ̡n͏e͏e̴̕d.̶̵** _

_Sans looked horrified at the idea. D͠a͠d͢.̸...ǹo͜..҉.̷! he cried. I͘ c҉o͠u̵l͢dn̢'t d͘o͢ ͡tha͠t̨ to̵ him! ͢Pa̢p҉y͟ŗus̕ ͢l͜o͜ve͢s͢ yo͢u mo͘re ̨th҉an̢ ͠any͘th̕ing in͏ th̛e ẃorld!̡ It̢ ̷wo͜uld҉ ̢K̛I̸LL̀ h̛i̵m̡ ̨to ĺơs͘e͠ ͡y͘oų ͘l̸i̧ke th̸at!̸_

 _Gaster felt tears run down his face, reaching down and touching just above Sans's soul lightly, seeing Sans's hands fly to that very area. **H͡e͏̴̡ ̴͘c̛̛a͠n̵̕͝n̴o̡͏͘t̶͘ ̸̨̕m̧ì̴͟s̀s̕ ̕w͟h̵a̶̸t̶͢ ̸͘h̡͜͡e͠ d͡o̸͠͝e͢͜s̶̛ ͏̀no̷̶̡t ́͘͞re̴m̵̸̨e͢m̀͡be̢͟ŕ.** he said softly. **F̕͏o̷͢r̸ ̧̧͜hi̷m͟ ̷ţ̀ó̸͞ ̡͜͠b̸͟ȩ̵ ̸h̷a҉́͘pp̷y͏̕,̢̡ ͡įt̨ ̶͜is̷̢ ̀̕a ̛͢s͝a̴̶͏ḉri̷̛f̴͘i̶c͢è͏̷ ̵̡I ͜a͜m̡ ̧͟͡w҉ì̧l̶l̷i̷͢n͜͝g̨͡ ̶t͏͏o͜ ͞͡m̕ąké̴͞.** _

_Sans wiped his eyes, crying harder. Ţh̨is ìsn't͢ ̶FAI̸R!́ he snapped. H͞a̕ven't ̵y̕o͞u̡ suffe͜red ͏ENOU̷G̸H̸, ̀Dad͟!?_

 _ **N͠o͏t ̨͞n̡e͘ar̢l̶y̢ é͞n̸̡o̸̡u͜͠g̸̶h̶͝,͘͡ ̕͟to̧̡ ́̕a҉to͠ǹe̢ ̀̀f̴o͝͏r my̶͝ ̴ş̀i̢͝ns͡** Gaster replied quietly. **B͜u̷̸̧t͡ ̕̕̕sée҉i̵͞ng̶҉ ̸̧y͟o̢̢̕ư͠ ͡a̛͜n̵d͞ ̴̀͘Pa͡p̶͡yr̨̨u҉͘s̶̢̧ ̀b̸e͜͟͢ ̕̕͜h͏̡a̛̕p̶p̡̡y̵͠ ͡w̷͠i͟ll̴ ̸͟b̡e r̸̕e̢w̶͝a̴̛͠r͜d̶ ͞͞͠e͠n͘͢͏ǫ̛͞u͏g̕h̶͢.** He pressed his fingers through Sans's rib cage and touched at the soul, actually FEELING it flicker to his fingertips. Sans gasped, his bones shaking. **Ỳ̧o͘͝u̢҉ ̨k̡n͟o̴͘w ́͢w͘͘h̷͟à̴͢t ̸̢͡to̸̢͢ ̢d͜o̸,̶̵ ̨S̴͏a̶̡n̶͞s͡.** _

_Sans's face slid into the eerily-knowledgeable expression that Gaster knew to be when Sans was using his inherited knowledge, watching as the boy stood up and silently walked over to the umbrella lean-to, kneeling in front of Papyrus. He put his hand over Papyrus's chest, summoning out the soul and placing his fingertips over it gently._

 _"...'m sorry, Paps..." he whimpered. "...but...this will make things...alright...!" With a flicker of his will, Sans delved into Papyrus's soul and wiped it clean of all memories of Dr. Wingdings Gaster._

 _Gaster turned away, willing himself to be dragged back into that dark, merciless Void, not bearing to be present when Papyrus woke up and would not know about him. He was so happy knowing Papyrus would be alright...and at the same time anguished that he would never be a part of that happiness ever again._

 **END PART 1**


	10. Chapter 10

_For years, he watched them._

 _He watched, overjoyed and sorrowed, as Papyrus woke up his happy and energetic self, accepting Sans's explanation of them being orphans without question. He watched them live in the garbage dump in Waterfall for several years before Sans was just old enough to get a job, wanting Papyrus to have a HOME instead of a lean-to._

 _He watched as Sans used his teleportation ability to work several jobs around the Underground at once until he earned enough to move to Snowdin, where there was a room for rent with a nice Monster couple who were thankfully mostly blind, not wanting to answer more questions than necessary._

 _He watched as Papyrus flitted around Snowdin like a happy little bird, greeting everyone cheerfully, only to be avoided or ignored, because why on earth would a five-foot-six Monster be wearing stripes like a child? He watched, heartbroken, as Sans urged him to ditch the striped shirts and wear solid colors because 'they don't understand, little bro', hiding his anger from Papyrus, who only wanted to play with the other kids, as any eleven-year-old would want to._

 _He watched as—at last—a glimmer of good opened up, when Sans walked into town for shopping and ran into his old friend Grillby, who immediately insisted they come over for dinner. The Flame Monster family welcomed the long-lost Skeleton brothers with open arms, sharing their joy at seeing them again, and sorrow when they informed the brothers that Sparks had passed away just months before they came, having been caught in a snowstorm and snuffed out._

 _He watched as Papyrus became determined to do something worthwhile and cunningly used his height to disguise his age, getting a sentry position at twelve years old. At thirteen, he saw Royal Guards make their rounds and become enamored. At fourteen, he began training his magic. At fifteen he gained complete mastery over his own body and magic. At sixteen, he hit his peak height at seven feet tall, towering over most everyone else in Snowdin, and was still avoided because of his childish demeanor._

 _He watched as Sans began losing sleep at fifteen, using as much time as possible to fill in his many part-time jobs. At sixteen, he ran into Alphys in Hotlands and all but threatened her to keep quiet about his whereabouts. At seventeen, he realized he had stopped growing. At eighteen, he watched Papyrus training in the forest, using an elegance he used to once see in his father, feeling a pang of jealousy in his soul, his hand brushing the rib under his jacket that had been nicked by a magic arrow when he was nine years old, which had drained and crippled his HP for life, it seemed. At nineteen, he bought the house from the elderly Monster couple, who wanted to retire to Waterfall, and finally, at last, felt that he could rest._

 _He watched the rest of the Underground too._

 _Undyne training with all the vigor of her mother before her, climbing ranks in the Royal Guard quickly, and, just as Naiad had prophesied, became Captain of the Royal Guard at age nineteen._

 _Alphys became Head Royal Scientist, and began snitching human cartoons from the garbage dump to fill a void in her life._

 _And Asgore...oh...his old friend..._

 _Asgore's son Asriel finding a human child in the old Ruins and helping them home. Asgore's sore heart taking the child in, treating them just like another child of his own. The child growing sick...the child dying..._

 _The horror of watching Asriel take his human sibling's soul and becoming a demigod, taking the body up above, and coming back in tatters before turning to dust._

 _He watched as Asgore's heart broke to pieces, his anguish driving him to declare any human that fell to be taken to him for their souls to be harvested._

 _He regretted ever having asked Asgore if he could take the life of a child to save everyone. He regretted even more watching Asgore gain the support of the Underground, but lose his wife, having no one to turn to for comfort when he took the life of that first child._

 _All he could do was sit there, hands hovering over the king's prostrate form, wishing that his will to comfort Asgore was enough._

 _It wasn't._

 _He had to watch again, and again, and again, as the same song-and-dance replayed five more times, with five different young lives. It never got easier for Asgore, EXP gained or not. His old friend was just too tenderhearted by nature to let LOVE take over his life._

 _Sometimes, selfishly, he wished Asgore would let it change him. He didn't deserve this suffering, and he especially didn't deserve it alone._

 _And then...everything changed._

 _It was on a day where nothing should have been odd. Perfectly normal, perfectly boring...and then the air changed. It changed in the way that he even felt it shudder through the Void. This was an air of destiny._

 _It was another child, but immediately, he knew this would not be like the other times. This child was different. This child had something that made the very Void tremble. It made him pay attention and watch._

 _While he watched, he could feel thousands of different timelines spread out, and by a mere glimpse, he shut the timelines away and refused to look at them again. To see his loved ones...his SONS...be subjected to THAT...!_

 _So he focused on this one. It was...the best one. It held the most promise.._

 _But the child needed help._

 _He knew Sans would be around the echo flowers, as the younger Skeleton normally was when a stressful time happened, and he urged his son to help the child, to steer them to the RIGHT path._

 _The efforts paid off in spades, even when he could do no more than watch the horrors that child faced, the horrors that his friends and family were drawn into._

 _But that child...they had DETERMINATION._

 _And that DETERMINATION broke the Barrier._

* * *

 _…...he couldn't go with them._

 _There was nothing up there for him. The Barrier was gone, and his children would be going onto better things._

 _Sans, the cheeky thing, courting Toriel ( **F̸͟͠or͡ ́͝͞ģo҉͠͡o͜͠d͏n̢͘é̸̶s̷͡s̵̢ s҉̡a̛͡͏k͢͝e,̡̨͢ ͘͜͝s̡͟o͜͠n̕͡,͡͞͞ ̸́s̴̴͠h̶ę̀'s͠͝ ̴̧o̵͟l͝҉҉de̴̛r̷ ͟͞th̀͟ą̴̸n҉̛ ̸I̷̴͘ ̛͢͡a҉m!̛͏** ) and possibly having a hand in raising the child...Papyrus expanding his horizons and finding new hobbies and interests...it was all he wanted for them. To be happy._

 _Gaster spent so long strolling through the empty Underground, losing track of time as he wallowed in the solitude. Almost every time, he ended up back at his sons' home, their presence still there even though it had been emptied when they moved to the Surface._

 _He would give it time. Given time, he would forget about them, and finally give himself over to the Void, where he would finally feel nothing..._

 _All of a sudden, he felt an agonizing throb in his soul, a painful jerk that screamed out in response to the echos that called do it._

 _It meant that his boys were in pain, and that they needed him!_


	11. Chapter 11

**PART 2**

Sans had to admit to himself that his life was fan-flipping-tastic.

Not only did he have a steady girlfriend—oh wow jeeze, she used to be the QUEEN too!—but he also had a nice house, a good job, Frisk calling him 'Dunkle Sans', and all the fresh air and sunshine he could nap under.

Things had been understandably shaky when the Monsters first came up, but with peaceful albeit tentative meetings between representatives on each side, misunderstandings were cleared up and treaties were made.

Come to find, the initial genocide of the Monsters was not officially sanctioned, and was instead the work of multiple anti-Monster hate groups working together. The previous country leader had been anti-Monster as well, and turned a blind eye to it all, and everyone now was lucky that the current leader was a very understanding man who didn't want another war on his hands.

There was a fifty-mile diameter of land around Mt. Ebott—mostly remained empty because of passed-down superstitions—that was given over as official Monster territory, and, to Toriel's chagrin but Asgore's paranoid insistence, was protected with diplomatic immunity. If a human came within those borders wishing a Monster harm, there would be retaliation.

Sans was not ashamed to agree to this. He had too many nightmares of humans taking what was dear to him to not have at least that safety insurance.

But it would seem that for the most part, he didn't give many humans enough credit. The majority of humans were more curious than afraid, and the moment Mettaton discovered social media, that was just the gap that was needed to bridge the two races by the one thing they both loved—entertainment.

Toriel opened a school for Monsters, and soon accepted human children as well from the more open-minded parents, and was met with great success. The frosty disposition she had for her ex husband began to thaw over time, when Asgore divided his time between assisting Frisk with their ambassador duty and indulging in horticulture, mostly keeping to himself.

As for Papyrus, the younger Skeleton brother wanted to indulge in EVERYTHING, and threw himself into any and every activity class he could find. As worried as that sometimes made Sans, he had to admit, Papyrus's cooking improved by leaps and bounds. Sans was also incredibly impressed when Papyrus passed his driver's test on the first try, and as a reward, bought his brother a snazzy red sports car.

Turned out their monetary system was worth a LOT more up here than it was in the Underground. Gold was apparently a hot seller and even the poorest of Monsters traded their gold for a hefty start-up fund.

With the Royal Guard no longer an option, Sans often found Papyrus looking through career books to try to find something else to aspire to, studying them with a surprising fervor. Normally, Papyrus barely had the attention span to read through his own books.

Toriel noticed his dedication and brought it up during dinner one evening. "You've been looking through many of those books, Papyrus," she said, dishing out something onto his plate before tapping Frisk's hand to let them know she SAW them put those vegetables under their napkin. "Have you decided on anything?"

Papyrus closed the book and put it under his chair, knowing that it was impolite to read when food was being served. "Not yet," he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and uncertain. "There's...a LOT more to choose from up here. And you have to go to school to be certified in most of them."

"Well, maybe schooling wont be so bad!" Toriel said, smiling. "You want to learn, yes? Maybe this is the way to do it. I'm going to a few teaching seminars myself, and they've been very informative." She took a few bites of food. "Just think about what you really want to do, and then narrow it down from there."

Papyrus was contemplatively silent for awhile. "...I like to help people," he finally said, getting everyone's attention again. "And...even though I'm good at fighting...I don't really...LIKE it...you know?"

"You're good with kids!" Frisk chirped, smiling. "All my friends love you! Like when Jeff fell off the jungle gym and you cheered him up while Lisa got his parents. That's something!"

"So, y'know, try something along those lines," Sans added, eating his peas one at a time, snickering at the irritated look Papyrus gave him for doing so. "But seriously, bro...you can do whatever you want."

Papyrus smiled, picking up his fork to eat. "...I think...I would like to become a doctor."

Everyone jumped when Sans spewed out the milk he had been drinking. Frisk squeaked, having gotten the brunt of the spew. "SANS—!"

"Goodness, Sans, what on earth was that for?" Toriel asked, handing Frisk another napkin. Sans's cheekbones tinged blue, wiping at his mouth.

"Heh...sorry...guess I got..a little choked up there..." he replied.

Papyrus stared. "...that pun was weak, even for you," he said. "Honestly, Sans, what's so surprising about me thinking about being a doctor? I was thinking a pediatrician...since Frisk said I'm good with kids and all...and I like helping people...and you SAID I could do anything I wanted..."

"Aw, Paps, I wasn't saying you COULDN'T!" Sans quickly reassured. "It just...it..." He frowned, his hand unconsciously going to his chest, feeling an odd flickering in his soul. "It...uh...wow...I'm...not feelin' too well..."

"Sans?" Toriel stood up, hurrying over to him, sitting him upright. "Sans, are you alright?" She noticed his hand clenching the front of his shirt tightly. "Sans, what's wrong?"

Sans's left eye began flickering softly, his hand shaking as it clutched his shirt tighter. "I...I don't..." he mumbled, his gaze going unfocused. "...̴.͠.̧Da̴d..̵. ..." His voice began to glitch slightly.

"Frisk, go call Alphys!" Toriel commanded, turning to Papyrus. "Papyrus, help me get Sans to...Papyrus...?" She saw Papyrus staring blankly into space as Sans was, his right eye glinting orange. "Papyrus? Papyrus!"

"...don't...feel well..." Papyrus mumbled, swaying slightly before pitching face-first into the table.

"Oh my god! FRISK! HURRY!"


	12. Chapter 12

Alphys walked out of the hospital room, her hands shaking violently as she looked over diagnostics charts, being met with a frantic and worried group.

"Well?!" Undyne asked, jumping out of the chair she had been sitting in, looking over Alphys's shoulder through the viewing window. In the dimly-lit room were Sans and Papyrus lying back in hospital beds, both unconscious. "What's wrong with them, Al?"

Alphys rubbed her face, sniffling softly. "I...it's their s-souls..." she stammered, swallowing hard. "B-both of them..their...oh god..." She sat down hard, putting the charts on the table next to her. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down, sitting upright. "...Sans and Papyrus's souls...are breaking down...and...I don't know how to stop it."

Toriel gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, her legs going weak. Frisk stared between Alphys and the window, shaking their head. "...what...does that mean...?" they asked. "It...CAN be fixed, right? Right?"

Alphys shook her head, wiping at her tears. "I've never e-encountered anything l-like this before...!" she stammered. "They...Sans and P-Papyrus are...th-their souls aren't like..." Her eyes flickered around, as though wanting to tell something they had been sworn to secrecy about.

She jumped when Asgore crossed the hall in two strides and stepped in front of the window, a heavy look of regret and heartbreak on his face. "...I should have kept those journals..." he muttered softly. Toriel looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing.

"What do you mean, Asgore?" she demanded. "What do you know about this?" Her hands clenched when he remained silent. "Asgore! If you know of some way to help, you had best speak up now!"

"...it would do no good," Asgore replied. "If the journals survived...he must have hidden them away...back Underground..." Next to him, Alphys shook harder, her hands pressed to her face. "Alphys, did...he leave anything in his old lab? Anything at all that could be of use?"

Alphys shook her head, still looking stricken for more than just the brothers being incapacitated. "No...he...a-anything he DID leave...S...Sans took YEARS a-ago...!" She shook her head harder, tears streaming down her face. "I-I'm sorry, Asgore...! He...he MADE me p-promise not to say ANYTHING...!"

"What he HELL are you two TALKING about!?" Undyne shouted, looking at the absolute end of her rope. "Are you going to DO anything!? It's OBVIOUS you're both on a page WE aren't on, so what are you going to DO!?"

Asgore pressed a hand to the glass. "...Sans and Papyrus are not like other Monsters," he replied. "They weren't born...they were MADE...and to be honest, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner." The hand on the glass clenched into a fist. "And...the ONLY one who can do ANYTHING doesn't even EXIST anymore!"

The air suddenly became thick with a stillness that was reminiscent of time stopping, the breath of everyone catching in their chests. Everyone stood stock still, internally reeling at the sensation, breaking from their spells when Asgore let out a strangled gasp and stumbled back from the glass.

Alphys jumped up and looked into the window, letting out a yelp when inside, she saw a solid shapeless blackness flickering like an image with bad reception between the two beds. The black shape slowly shifted and stretched, three white shapes appearing in the positions of a head and two hands. It finally stopped flickering and slowly turned around, and it was Alphys's turn to jerk away from the window.

"Holy shit..." Undyne murmured, her eye wide. "...what the hell IS that thing...?!" A spear appeared in her shaking hand on reflex. Asgore dropping like a rock to his knees next to her, startling her from looking at the...thing. "...Asgore...?"

Asgore was looking as though he was seeing death itself, his hands pressed to his mouth, his breath ragged and forced. It filled Undyne with dread, seeing her former king in such a state, so TERRIFIED of this creature THAT HOLY SHIT WAS IN THE ROOM WITH SANS AND PAPYRUS!

She reared her arm back and lobbed the spear through the glass, right to the creature in the room. The creature raised a hand, the spear stopping mid-air and then vanishing into nothing.

Undyne growled, forming another spear, jumping when Alphys leaped over and forced her arm down. "Alphys, what the fu—"

"DON'T!" Alphys cried, her body shaking violently. "D-don't...p...please, Undyne..."

"Alphys, what the hell IS that thing!?" she demanded, unable to look away from the creature. If she were being generous, she would say it resembled a Skeleton with no teeth and a half-melted cracked skull. It was more the presence it gave out than the actual sight of it that unnerved her more than anything; an unnatural, tangible aura that seemed to take the air from the room, slow time to an agonized crawl...

"...he's alive..."

Asgore's voice broke Undyne's gaze from the creature, turning to see Asgore silently crying, that horrified stricken look still on his face. Next to her, Alphys had a similar expression, looking just as ill with terror.

"...I w-watched him d-die though...!" Alphys whimpered, her eyes flicking around, not wanting to settle on the creature. "I...I SAW h-him...!"

Toriel was shielding Frisk behind her, also unable to look away from the being in the room, torn between staying back out of fear and wanting to run in and snatch Sans away from it. The effect this creature was having on ASGORE told her that this was not something to be trifled with, but Alphys's insistence at it not being harmed was another matter entirely. "Asgore..Alphys...who...or WHAT...is that...!?" she demanded.

"...T...Tori..." Asgore stammered, clenching his eyes shut. "...it's Gaster..."

Toriel's heart dropped to her stomach, feeling an icy cold grip her body. Gaster? Dr. Wingdings Gaster?! It COULDN'T be! He died years ago! What was he doing HERE!?

 _Gaster turned back to the two younger Skeletons on the hospital beds, his warped expression still able to convey pain and despair. Even now in this happiest of times, his sins were still being taken out on his sons, the distance he put between them for their sake only tearing their souls apart in a bid to return to their source in the Void._

 _It would be so easy...to take them back with him. To bring them into the Void so they could be together again. But he was done being selfish, no matter how good his intentions. His children had lives, loves, friends, hopes, and dreams, and he would be the foulest creature in the multiverse if he took that away from them now._

 _That only left one option._

 _He raised his hands, hovering them over the boys' rib cages, summoning forth their souls. The soft magical glows—blue for Sans's and orange for Papyrus's—were but a dying flicker, the portions of the souls that had grown and developed on their own slowly chipping away into something almost unrecognizable._

 _Gaster brought his hands to his chest, summoning forth his own soul, a pitiful, twisted thing coated and stitched together with an inky blackness that didn't look like a soul at all, just an ethereal THING that made up his sad existence. But this pitiful thing would be the final salvation, the missing piece to their souls that would anchor them as true Monsters and not just lab experiments, not just sentient clones._

 _He took the soul in his hands, clasping it tightly before snapping it in two._

Alphys had to forcefully hold Undyne back when Gaster summoned the Skeleton brothers' souls forth. "Undyne, STOP!" she cried. "He...he won't hurt them! He...he w-WOULDN'T...!" She buried her face into her girlfriend's abdomen, sobbing. "P-please, he's their f-father...!"

Undyne's body froze, a painful throb in the back of her mind shooting forth like a migraine, images of her childhood flashing before her, painful images she buried away because they were times before her mother's passing.

Images of a baby bones peering over the edge of a fountain and smiling at her.

Images of splashing around, finally happy at having someone to play with.

Images of a tall, dark figure picking up her new friend.

Images of the figure returning, again and again with her friend, always within view, watching with pitch black eye sockets that seemed empty when her friend's somehow seemed so warm and happy, but never being afraid of him because...

... _That's Papyrus's daddy._

Undyne looked up sharply, seeing Gaster pull a twisted, wretched-looking soul out of his body, holding it in his hands before breaking it in two, a sharp ripple snapping through the air. Undyne flinched hard, curling her arms around Alphys, almost feeling a similar snap in her own soul by empathy, shaking hard as Gaster lowered the halves of his soul to the waiting souls of Sans and Papyrus.

For a moment, nothing happened.

And then an inferno of magic energy exploded in the room.


	13. Chapter 13

_"...Asgore...can I ask you something?"_

 _"Anything, my friend."_

 _"Will you...please promi̷se̶ m͠e̷ y̛͎̝͘ơ̱̙̱͔̭u͈͢ ̵̡̖w̨̘̗̱͔͚̟͟͝ͅi҉̞l̶̡̦̗l̸̮͇͙͇̫̞͖̰̺͢ ̶͚͎͢ t̫̪̫̪̯̦̠͜a̶̗̘͇͕͔̥̞͓͝ͅk̛͟͏̤̭͙̮̝̻̟̳͢e̶̴̙̞̤̞̩̖͈͇͡ ̴̩̠̜̭̖͕̮̲͠c̴̱̖̰͖̩͓̤̙̥͝a̸̶̴̧͓͕̭͇͙͎̱͔̞͓͈͉͈̻͍̩ͅr̨̝̭̯̫͈͇̭̫̪̥̩̳͘͢͜e̴̛͔̦̞̟͚̳̗̳̜̫̥͇̖̪̮̣̱ ̛͉̫͎̠̰͎̪̱̫̻̝̰̀ͅo̶̢̱̼̗͖̜͚̰̹͕͝͡ͅf̨҉̜̺͔̤̼͖͟ ̡͙͙̺̮̜̫̲͔̥̝̞͟t̖͈̗̝͔͎̲̟͓̞͚͍̖͕͓́͜͠͞ͅͅḩ͟҉͎̖͓̩͖̟̼̲͕͇̮̞͚e҉̡͕̟̦̝̀m̵̛̛̹̟̣̝͚̼̞͚͉͇̳ͅͅ ̴̷̙̮̺̰͉̺̯͈̭͈̹̗͉̫͜͝f̨̡̗͇͕̝̫͉̳̬̹͕͚̣̗̟̼͍͔̤͞ͅo̷̸̻̰͍̫͚̮̣̠͔̼͝r̢͜҉̵̦̱̰͙͔̪̠̝͍͢ ̷̨̗͓̗͈̞̖̝͉͈̰͔͈̬̬͟m̴̡̢͜҉̬͚͔̩͍̫̘̳̫̣̖͖͉͙͚͚e͏̀҉̧̜̣͈̞̘͖͇̬̺͈͔̱́ "_

 _...promi̷se̶ m͠e̷ y̛͎̝͘ơ̱̙̱͔̭u͈͢ ̵̡̖w̨̘̗̱͔͚̟͟͝ͅi҉̞l̶̡̦̗l̸̮͇͙͇̫̞͖̰̺͢ ̶͚͎͢ t̫̪̫̪̯̦̠͜a̶̗̘͇͕͔̥̞͓͝ͅk̛͟͏̤̭͙̮̝̻̟̳͢e̶̴̙̞̤̞̩̖͈͇͡ ̴̩̠̜̭̖͕̮̲͠c̴̱̖̰͖̩͓̤̙̥͝a̸̶̴̧͓͕̭͇͙͎̱͔̞͓͈͉͈̻͍̩ͅr̨̝̭̯̫͈͇̭̫̪̥̩̳͘͢͜e̴̛͔̦̞̟͚̳̗̳̜̫̥͇̖̪̮̣̱ ̛͉̫͎̠̰͎̪̱̫̻̝̰̀ͅo̶̢̱̼̗͖̜͚̰̹͕͝͡ͅf̨҉̜̺͔̤̼͖͟ ̡͙͙̺̮̜̫̲͔̥̝̞͟t̖͈̗̝͔͎̲̟͓̞͚͍̖͕͓́͜͠͞ͅͅḩ͟҉͎̖͓̩͖̟̼̲͕͇̮̞͚e҉̡͕̟̦̝̀m̵̛̛̹̟̣̝͚̼̞͚͉͇̳ͅͅ ̴̷̙̮̺̰͉̺̯͈̭͈̹̗͉̫͜͝f̨̡̗͇͕̝̫͉̳̬̹͕͚̣̗̟̼͍͔̤͞ͅo̷̸̻̰͍̫͚̮̣̠͔̼͝r̢͜҉̵̦̱̰͙͔̪̠̝͍͢ ̷̨̗͓̗͈̞̖̝͉͈̰͔͈̬̬͟m̴̡̢͜҉̬͚͔̩͍̫̘̳̫̣̖͖͉͙͚͚e͏̀҉̧̜̣͈̞̘͖͇̬̺͈͔̱́ …_

 _...promise me..._

 _...promise me..._

 _ **"Promise me you will take care of them for me."**_

"WINGDINGS!"

Asgore sat up straight, looking around wildly before scrambling up and hurrying to the window, looking through, his heart pounding in his chest. On the hospital beds, the Skeleton brothers' bodies were glowing softly, but they were intact nonetheless. He jerked the door open, hurrying inside to look them over.

Their bones were crawling with an odd magic light that was emitting from their souls, which were miraculously whole and perfect, pulsing powerfully as they reformed the bodies attached. Asgore felt the familiar magical signature of Gaster pulsing through them both, but it was like a passing resemblance of the signature, like seeing an old friend's features on their children.

Gaster himself was gone.

Why? Why was it NOW he could understand what Gaster's last request was to him, when he was years too late? When it was obvious that he had failed, when the children vanished and he only learned of their whereabouts long after they needed guidance?

Gods, how many more failures could he pile onto his shoulders before he would finally break?

He wasn't aware that he was back on the floor until Frisk was standing by his shoulder, looking just as worried as he felt. They hugged him tightly, wiping their eyes as Alphys walked in, her hands shaking at the two glowing Skeletons.

"...oh my..." she murmured, her eyes wide. "...out...! E...everyone out! OUT!" She shooed Asgore to his feet and out the door, shutting it and pulling the curtain closed on the broken window.

Frisk sniffled, clinging to Asgore tightly. He picked them up, doing his best to get his own emotions under control for their sake, sitting back on the bench with a shaky sigh.

Undyne remained kneeling on the floor, still looking stricken. "...I...knew that guy..." she murmured, staring at her hands. "...I knew him...I knew...Papyrus...and Sans when I was just a little fish...!" She pressed her hands to her face, shaking her head. "...how did I forget that...?!"

Asgore sighed, his breath shaky. "...he could...do things many others couldn't...including dampening memories. He had his reasons, Undyne...believe me when I say that."

Toriel helplessly paced the width of the wall, gesturing with her hands to convey words that couldn't come out. "...I...don't understand...!" she finally managed, looking at the curtain. "...how...what happened...?"

No one had any answers.

* * *

Alphys walked out some time later, looking shaken, but oddly hopeful. Toriel was the first one up, hurrying over. "Are they alright!?" she demanded, wiping at her eyes. "Alphys, please...!"

Alphys rubbed her face hard before sighing heavily. "...t-they're alive," she said. Everyone else heaved a collective sigh and sob of relief. "...I'm not sure what they're going to be like when they wake up...b-but according to my scans, their souls and bodies are at one-hundred percent health. They just need some rest."

"Can we see them?" Frisk asked. "If...they're okay, then...we can see them, right?" Everyone else looked at Alphys, and she nodded quietly.

"Just be calm and quiet," she said. "I'm already going to have to deal with the staff wondering why there was a m-magic explosion in this hallway, and quite frankly, I'd rather not have to go into...into certain things of the past."

Asgore nodded. "We understand, Alphys. Thank you." He helped Undyne up, quietly heading in with the others.

Sans and Papyrus were tucked back into bed, looking peaceful and content, but everyone was stricken by their appearances. Though they both looked perfectly healthy both brothers had identical oblique cracks in their skulls that Gaster once had, going from the top of the right eyesocket upward and from the bottom of the left eyesocket down to their mouths. The cracks were clean and looked almost natural, strange as it seemed.

Alphys quietly walked over to a light box, tapping in some numbers and bringing up a screenshot of two souls. "These...were their souls before all this. I...I had them on file, just to be sure." She gestured to the shapes. "See how almost underdeveloped they are, when compared to a normal Monster's soul?" She turned the screen's image to another, the two souls now looking larger, fuller, and much more powerful. "...And...these are their souls now..."

Undyne frowned, leaning in. "...I...never noticed that before," she said. "What the hell even is that?" Alphys rubbed her face, sighing.

"No use keeping it under wraps now," she murmured, letting out a heavy sigh and sitting up. "...before me, the...the Head Royal Scientist was a Skeleton Monster named Dr. Wingdings Gaster. After the w-war...he was the o-only Skeleton Monster left. At ALL." She shook her head sadly. "...The trauma of the war...of seeing his species be w-wiped out...and of gaining so much EXP and LOVE...i-it tore up his mind. It drove him to something...desperate in a bid to save his mind..."

She looked over at Sans, rubbing her arms. "...He t-took a piece of his own soul and used it to create Sans...who has a n-nearly perfect genetic copy of Gaster's mind." She glanced at Papyrus. "...Splitting his soul and his enduring trauma began t-to break down his body...and he decided he would create a new one. A new mind, and a new body. I...I don't know if he planned on possessing his soul to one and then the other, or somehow fusing them and then putting his consciousness into that fusion to make it work, but..."

"BUT," Asgore cut in, stepping up, "he changed his mind, in the end." He looked between the two brothers solemnly. "...The day he...disappeared...he came to me and told me he was dying...and that his one regret was not being there to watch them grow up. And...he wanted...something else...but then he began to deteriorate...and I couldn't make out his final request of me..." He sighed. "...I...don't know how...he managed to survive falling into the Core...or how he came HERE...but he saved their lives."

Undyne sat next to Papyrus, touching his shoulder softly. "...you're telling me...that...all that time...Papyrus was a clone of some Skeleton doctor?"

"He's NOT just a clone, Undyne!" Asgore said, his voice firm. "Him, nor Sans. He may have been created with the intention of being just a body, but he developed into a Monster of his own right!" His hands flexed slightly. "I knew Gaster since we were children ourselves, and I can say with certainty that these two are unique from him. They shouldn't be treated any differently because of this."

"He...he's right, Undyne," Alphys said quietly. "They're...still the same Skeletons we already knew. Just wait...okay? You'll see..."

Frisk looked between the two brothers, their hands flexing slightly by their sides. They couldn't help but feel a tremble crawl down their spine, something not quite agreeing with Alphys's notion.


	14. Chapter 14

It didn't take long until Sans woke up.

Toriel was in the middle of reading a book out loud—a personal publication of _1,001 Puns to Drive Your Family to Alcoholism_ , to bring Sans out of it and hopefully irritate Papyrus out of it—and was cut off after one of the jokes by a soft snort from Sans. She quickly put the book down, leaning over his bed.

"Sans?" she breathed, eyes wide. "Sans? Please wake up. _Coma_ to your senses!"

Sans snorted again, shifting on the bed before opening his eyesockets, a glimmer of magic flickering in his left eyesocket before forming a distinct iris shape which moved as he looked around. "...Tori...?" he murmured, raising his left hand to his head, pausing when he saw that the hand now had a hole missing from his palm, which had denser fused bones rather than his more traditional Skeleton frame. "...w...what is...?"

Toriel gently took his hand, holding it tightly. "Sans...calm down, okay?" she said softly, her voice wavering. "Alphys will be here soon, and she'll explain everything..."

Sans shifted his gaze from his left hand to his right, which had no hole but still had the denser bone structure. He shakily sat up, pressing his hand to his chest, the eyelight quivering in his eyesocket. "...What...happened...?" he asked, his voice louder with a slightly heavier feel to it. "Why...why am I...?"

"Sans..." Toriel brushed her hand over his face comfortingly. "...please...it's okay...you're okay, and that's all that matters to me." She leaned her forehead on his, her breath shaky. "...I was so worried, Sans..."

He sat in silence for a few long moments before reaching up and touching the side of her head. "...don't cry, Tori..." he said softly. "...heh...guess with this hole in my left hand, I'll be all _right_ now."

Toriel giggled, nuzzling his skull. "Glad to see you're finding this _humerus_."

"Speaking of which, I haven't the _faint_ est idea why I passed out," Sans joked back before going a bit more serious. "...But...Toriel, what...what happened?" He looked around the room, stiffening when he saw Papyrus in the bed on the other end of the bedside table. "Papyrus!" He made a move to rush out of the bed, and was stopped by Toriel.

"Sans, please, calm down!" she said, holding his shoulders tightly. "He's fine, Sans! Alphys checked him over just an hour ago. His soul is perfectly healthy."

"His soul? What was wrong with his soul?!" Sans demanded. "And for THAT matter, what's wrong with MINE?" He pressed a hand to his chest. "...Toriel...I feel different..." He looked at his hole-free right hand, taking in the denser bones all the way over his radius and ulna. The old faint nicks and scratches were gone, leaving behind perfectly smooth bone that seemed just so unnatural on a Skeleton of his age. "...I don't feel like...myself."

Toriel squeezed his left hand tightly, looking up when Alphys came in.

"Oh, Sans, y-you're awake!" Alphys cried, hurrying to check him over, taking a moment to stare at his left eyesocket and the iris-like light inside of it. "Okay, please...tell me how you feel...a-and please...don't keep anything...um...just..." She sighed. "...It's important, Sans...I NEED to...to know you're alright."

Sans nodded, flexing his hands tightly. "...I don't...feel very much like myself," he said. "My body feels...all wrong...like trying on a new suit that fits, but...it's not YOURS, y'know?" He rubbed his face. "...But as far as health...I feel fine. I'd even go so far as to say 'never better'...but even THAT feels wrong to say."

Alphys nodded, picking up the soul screen tablet. "Alright, I just need to look at your soul, now that you're conscious," she said, holding it up to his chest and turning it on. Immediately, the large, healthy soul appeared, almost glimmering in his chest, the stats a little shaky from his mood. "Alright...that looks fine...now...activate your magic."

Sans took a moment to shift the metaphorical gears in the strange new 'suit' so to speak, and the white light of his left 'iris' flickered an odd shade of purple before turning to his familiar blue. On the screen, the soul glowed a soft almost-indigo blue, stats appearing on the side of the screen.

"...oh my..." Alphys murmured, staring. Toriel's eyes widened, jaw slack.

"What?" Sans asked, his magic dimming. "What's wrong? I thought you said I was fine!"

Alphys screen-paused the image, holding it up. "...You...ARE fine..." she said. "...just...not the 'fine' I was...expecting." She handed him the screen to look at.

Sans's iris flashed indigo again, his hands shaking as he looked at his soul and his stats.

His soul was so much bigger, so much fuller, the color less of a washed-out blue and more of a vibrant indigo. But it wasn't even the fullness of his soul that had his hands shaking. In the date panels, were his stats. His HP had always been 1.

But now, on the screen, his HP clearly displayed 1000.

The tablet fell from his hands and into his lap as he sat back hard against the headboard. One-thousand. One-THOUSAND. LITERALLY a thousand times more than he previously had, all at once. No effing WONDER he felt so at odds with his own body; it wasn't emitting a 24/7 danger-sensing aura anymore, and it was STILL. SAFE.

….NORMAL.

"...oh my gods..." he muttered, holding his head in his hands. "...this...is unreal..." He held up his left hand, staring at the hole. "...What...did you DO to me, Gaster...?"

Alphys winced, picking the tablet up. "...He saved your life, Sans," she said quietly. "...You...you and Papyrus were DYING...your souls were b-breaking apart...!" She teared up, wiping at her eyes. "...I...I thought he w-was DEAD, Sans...b-but he CAME here! He..." She had to sit down, just REMEMBERING it. "...he b-broke his soul in half...and gave the pieces to you and Papyrus..."

Sans pressed his hand to his mouth, shaking his head, his iris flickering wildly as his other hand pressed to his chest, over his soul. HIS soul? How could he call this HIS soul when Gaster gave him half of his own?

He glanced across the room at Papyrus, who was lying still under the sheets, undisturbed by the commotion. "...And...Papyrus...?" he asked. Alphys looked over, sighing.

"...His soul is as healthy as yours, Sans," she said. "...he's just...taking longer to wake up." She fidgeted for a moment. "I can give him another look-over, if you want to...erm...stretch your legs."

Sans rubbed his face hard before sighing. "Yeah," he said. "Sure." Toriel stood up as he pushed the sheet down and eased himself up out of the bed. "Ugh, head-rush..." He turned to Toriel to ask where his jacket went, the question dying halfway up when he saw that instead of being at level with Toriel's abdomen, he was instead standing at just under her shoulder.

He looked down, seeing that the shorts he had been wearing, which normally fell just at his knees, were now halfway up his femur, the shirt that was normally over-sized now nearly a perfect fit, save for the shoulders, which seemed slightly snug.

Oh, there was no way his jacket was going to fit the same NOW.

….wait a moment...'stretch his legs'—

"Alphys, did you just make a goddamn PUN?"

The squeak and reddening of her face told him, yes. Yes she had.


	15. Chapter 15

Sans was halfway through a cigarette before he was consciously aware that he was even smoking one. He was outside taking a breather and absently bummed one off of a nurse on break when it was offered. After realizing what he was doing, he took it from between his teeth and stared at it. Why was he...? He'd never picked up the habit, wanting to make a good example for Papyrus...

Something in his mind twitched, bringing up memories of when he was a toddler, seeing Gaster in his mind's eye occasionally indulging in the habit, but dropping it entirely after they began play group.

Brilliant. Effing brilliant.

He snuffed out what was left of the cigarette, flicking it away before rubbing his head. Less than an hour into waking up and already he was picking up quirks that weren't even his own. As though waking up to a _body_ that hardly felt like his own wasn't enough.

Sans headed back inside, reentering the hall where his hospital room was in, but taking a small detour into the bathroom, primarily to finally do what he had been putting off since he stepped out for fresh air and 'to stretch his legs'. Had to hand it to Alphys for pulling THAT one out of the air. He shut and locked the door, taking a few shaky breaths before walking over to the mirror, bracing his hands on the sink and looking into the mirror.

There wasn't THAT much of a difference...safe for the two large oblique lines engraved into his skull, that is. His eyesockets also had more of a 'half-lidded' look, and his left eyesocket had a permanent white iris of magic light settling inside it. What he noticed most was his smile...or rather, lack thereof. His trademark permanent smile was much less defined with this new face of his, combined with the rest of his features making him look more morose than anything.

Not that he didn't FEEL that way, mind...

He gripped the sink tightly before reaching down and tugging his t-shirt up, looking at his bone structure up close. …...it...ah...wasn't BAD. He'd normally been slightly self-conscious about his bone structure before, first from being so short, and then from his bones being larger, but less dense, making them susceptible to cracks, nicks, and dents. He didn't wear several layers of clothing over his chest for no reason. It was for protection, more than anything, and summoning abdominal ectoplasm as a cushion wore down on his magic a LOT more than just layering up.

NOW his bone structure was more dense and even more spread out than before, not even having to feel for himself to know his strengthened magic and HP made his bones almost rock-hard.

Okay, finding one thing he liked out of this mess, that was a START...being slightly taller was another, he could DEFINITELY live with that... _just breathe, Sans, you can handle this...!_

 _ **Knock knock.**_ "Sans? Are you in there?"

Toriel.

Sans rubbed his face hard, shuddering. "Uh, yeah," he replied. "What is it, Tori?"

"Sans, we've been looking for you! Papyrus is awake!"

He hurried to the door and unlocked it, jerking it open. "He's awake!?" he asked, his soul fluttering. "Is he okay? No bad after-effects?" Toriel reached out and held his shoulders tightly, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Sans, he's fine," she said softly, smiling. "He just wants to see you. Alphys was getting his stats when I last saw them." She led him out, curling an arm around his shoulders. "It's alright, Sans. We're all just happy you're both alright."

Sans flexed his hands, trying not to take off running for the room and instead kept at the pace Toriel made for him. He knew she was trying to get him to calm down on the way there, but this was his brother, who might be even more terrified than HE is at what just happened to them!

Toriel reached the room, quietly opening the door. "Alphys, I found him," she said, keeping the door open for Sans. Sans hurried in, beelining for Papyrus—

—only to have Gaster standing in his place.

The world went freezing numb for a moment before going pitch black.

* * *

 _"...don't understand why he just fainted like that!"_

 _"Undyne, if you remembered Gaster the way they did, you'd have passed out too."_

 _"This is my fault...I should have...I should have REALIZED that..."_

Sans groaned, reaching up to rub his face, the whispers around him stopping. "...what the hell happened...?" he muttered. Deftly, he felt Toriel hurry to his side and help him up before giving him a tight hug. "Tori...?"

"I'm sorry, Sans!" she cried, squeezing him. "...I didn't think, I should have known..."

"Tori, please..." Sans murmured, hugging her back. "...it's not your fault...I just...I just thought I saw..." Toriel pet his head gently as Alphys tidied up, and shooed Undyne out.

"...he...left the room after m-making sure you were alright..." Alphys said, wringing her hands tightly. "Didn't...want you waking up to another panic attack..."

Sans swore sharply under his breath, sitting up. "Ah, jeeze, where is he now?" he asked. "This isn't his fault, I didn't...I didn't MEAN to..."

"He knows, Sans," Toriel said, squeezing his hand. "But he needed to...stretch his legs a little too. Pun fully intended." She gave him a smile. "...Alphys said you're both clear to come home now." She kissed the top of his skull, standing up. "Right, Alphys?"

Alphys peered over her shoulder, tidying things away. "...R..right," she said, giving them a smile. "I'll...get all the paperwork done...you guys just go home, but PLEASE...take it easy for a few days, okay?" Her expression went serious. "...This...this is something entirely new...and I don't...I don't want there to be any...unpleasant side-effects because you and Papyrus aren't careful...alright?"

Sans nodded, standing up. "...We'll be careful, Alphys," he replied. "We'll even email you full blow-by-blows of the day, if that's what you want." He glanced down at his hands quietly. "...I don't want this to backfire in my face either."

Toriel smiled, holding his shoulder. "Let's go get Frisk and Papyrus and head home then," she said, leading him out. Sans walked with her, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling more than a little under-dressed and vowing to get a new jacket the minute he had some time to spare going shopping.

In the waiting room, Frisk was standing by Asgore, holding onto his hand tightly and staring almost shyly at Papyrus. Sans couldn't blame the kid; even wearing the same clothes leaving as he came in, Papyrus just...didn't look like Papyrus.

It was a silly thing to think, when he thought about it. Sans always recalled Papyrus having a heavy resemblance to Gaster, albeit Gaster had a more filled-in, denser bone structure—in the earlier years, anyway—and Papyrus always had a bigger smile and just a bigger...presence.

Papyrus had identical oblique cracks in his skull as Sans did, but that was where the similarity ended. His eyesockets seemed slightly smaller with softer, less defined edges, and in his right eyesocket was a light similar to Sans's, but rather than be iris-shaped, it was a solid glow of white light. His features also seemed less angular and more organic, and while his hands remained somewhat the same—Papyrus always had long, elegant fingers underneath his gloves—he had a hole in the palm of his right hand, as opposed to Sans's left.

Since Papyrus had been wearing a pullover and jeans to better suit the autumn weather, it was difficult for Sans to see if the rest of Papyrus's bone structure had changed, but he didn't need to see it to know that it didn't matter. The rest of Papyrus was almost identical to what he could remember Gaster being in his own youth.

Papyrus looked up when Sans walked out with Toriel, and his face seemed to light up as he stood and hurried over, hugging Sans tightly. "Sans...you're alright...!"

Sans stiffened for only a moment before hugging Papyrus back. Oh, if he didn't think it would cause upset, he would drop to his knees and thank the gods that this WAS Papyrus...his little brother...and no amount of physical changes had taken that away. "...'m just glad you're alright, bro..." he murmured into Papyrus's pullover. "...heh...guess this whole mess really wasn't for the _faint_ of heart, amirite?"

"...Sans, do not make me put you back in that hospital bed."

Toriel giggled, holding her hand out for Frisk. "Let's go home now, Frisk," she said, turning back to the brothers. "And no fighting on the way home, you two! You're supposed to be resting! Now out to the van!"

Frisk squeezed their mother's hand, chewing their lip as they glanced back at Asgore, wishing that Toriel had seen what she was seeing and at least did something about it. Asgore was staring at Papyrus, his expression still akin to having seen the dead rise up again, but with a certain guilty longing, the same he had while he was talking about Gaster back hours ago.

Back in the hospital room, Alphys sat down on a bed, picking back up the soul tablet, bringing back up the image of Papyrus's soul scan and staring at it. "...Gaster..." she murmured, shaking her head numbly. "...what have you done?"

She shakily copied the image onto a small USB chip, and then deleted the image entirely.


	16. Chapter 16

Sans had some rather...unsettling dreams that night.

They started off like normal dreams of his past; taking care of Papyrus, watching Gaster work, going to play group with the other kids, things of that nature. But then he began seeing things he never personally experienced.

Very...very HAPPY things.

 _He saw a small village tucked back in the forest, alive and thriving with Skeleton Monsters. He saw many of them who shared his and Papyrus's features, especially a small family on the border of the village with roses of every color blooming in the gardens._

 _He saw an older Skeleton couple, the man of a shorter stature with a larger bone structure who would sit out on the front porch and just read and nap the day away, and a statuesque woman flitting around cooking up enough food to feed the entire village, it seemed. In the garden, he saw small, petite Skeleton girl lovingly tend to the roses, her demeanor so gentle that butterflies would rest on her without fear of being disturbed, a red scarf wrapped around her head and shoulders._

 _He recalled feeling so much love, looking at this small family, and seeing so much love when they looked back. He never wanted to leave. He never wanted it to end._

 _And then everything went up in flames._

Sans jerked awake, one hand pressed to his rib cage, the other extended outward toward the family that had suddenly vanished. It took him several moments to realize that he had been dreaming, and let out a shaky sigh, covering his face with his hands.

Inwardly, he knew by instinct what that was. He had seen a Skeleton settlement before the war. That family he saw...that was HIS. His grandparents...Roman and Arial...his aunt Calibri...

 _My parents...my sister..._

Sans shook his head, feeling tears well up in his eyesockets. This was so messed up...feeling so deeply for people he never even met before, because of Gaster's memories. It was so unfair, and so heartbreaking.

He rubbed his face, glancing over across the bed to see that Toriel was absent, then remembered that she was sleeping in the den as a precaution, in case...well, something like THIS happened, but with a more violent outcome. He wished she hadn't. He sort of needed someone right now.

Sans looked up sharply. Papyrus. Oh gods, what if Papyrus was having this same problem?! He slipped out of bed and hurriedly but quietly made his way to Papyrus's room, pausing when he saw a dim light underneath the door that was too bright for a nightlight but too dim for the overhead light. His lamp, then. He walked up quietly, tapping the door with his knuckles lightly.

"...hey, Paps..." he murmured softly. "...you awake, bro?" He heard a quiet shuffling for a moment before footsteps made their way to the door, which opened a moment later.

Sans flexed his hands tightly, forcing himself to NOT have another episode at seeing the spitting image of Gaster standing there with a book in hand and reading glasses on his face. He reminded himself that Papyrus NEEDED them—being far-sighted and all—for reading and driving. It said so on the guy's license.

"Sans?" Papyrus's voice said, breaking him out of his internal reassurances. "...Are you alright?" Sans let out a heavy sighed, rubbing his face again.

"...just...dreams," he said quietly, pointedly looking anywhere but at Papyrus, feeling shamed for doing so. It wasn't Papyrus's fault for his resemblance to Gaster. "...I was...just checkin' in on you..."

Papyrus sighed, opening the door wider and stepping back. "Sans, if you had a bad dream and need some company, you can just tell me," he said, putting a hand on Sans's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sans shook his head, rubbing his arm. Papyrus shifted his hand from Sans's shoulder to his back, pulling him gently into his bedroom and sitting him on the bed. "Well, you can keep me company," Papyrus said, sitting back on his bed, opening his book up. Sans recognized it as one of the few fiction books he checked out when he took Frisk to the library last week. What struck him as odd was that even though Papyrus would find good books to read there, he almost never managed to get past the third chapter on any before they were due back. With this one, it looked like he was a little over halfway through it.

An unbidden memory surfaced in Sans's mind, of watching Gaster singlemindedly read through something even while Papyrus (very) loudly played nearby, not losing focus for anything that wasn't life-threatening. Book open in his lap, one arm propping up his head, finger poised at the top corner of the page for turning, the occasional readjustment of reading glasses...

...the exact same vision here.

Sans sighed, lying on his side at the foot of Papyrus's bed, trying to keep his mind from panicking at so many conclusions here. This was to be expected, he told himself. He unconsciously picked up Gaster's old cigarette habit, Papyrus picks up reading quirks. This was nothing. It was nothing. It was okay. It was okay.

He fell back asleep, and this time, he had no more dreams.

* * *

Sans woke up the next morning, finding himself tucked into Papyrus's bed, and Papyrus nowhere in sight. Looking over and seeing the clock say it was almost 10 am solved that mystery. Papyrus was always the type to think 8 am was 'sleeping in'.

He sat up and stretched before heading to his own room, rifling through the closet for something to wear, for the first time GRATEFUL he normally got clothes that were a size larger. Ugh, Papyrus that lucky guy, he stayed the same height...

Tugging on a pair of jogging pants and a shirt Frisk got him for Christmas that said _**Bone-ified Hottie**_ , he headed for the door, pausing when he caught sight of himself in Toriel's vanity mirror.

Ugh, he looked so...AWKWARD in these clothes now. When he was shorter and thicker-boned, it wasn't so bad, but now he had a fully-functional body he didn't need to pad over and protect. In any case, if Papyrus didn't insist on a new wardrobe, he would go out and get one himself. He was sure Toriel would be thrilled; she loved him, fashion sense included, but last month she practically gave him a death glare when he was going to be wearing a t-shirt and Crocs to their date night last month.

When he went into the kitchen, he found that neither Frisk or Papyrus were present, just Toriel sitting at the table with some coffee and papers to grade. She looked up and smiled when he walked in, leaning over to kiss his head. "Feeling better today?" she asked.

Sans nodded, getting himself a cup of coffee and sitting down. "A little," he said. "Woke up last night with...dreams." He drummed his fingers on the table. "...Ended up sleeping in Papyrus's bed."

Toriel reached over, putting her hand over his. "If something's bothering you, Sans, you can talk to me," she said. "I won't pretend to understand it...I doubt ANYONE can with a matter like this...but I'll be here."

Sans smiled, turning his palm upward and squeezing her hand. "...it was just dreams about memories that weren't mine," he replied. "I'm sure I'll be having them for awhile before I get used to blocking them out...don't worry."

"I'll always worry, you know that." Toriel smiled, squeezing his hand back before picking her coffee cup back up. Sans did the same, looking around.

"...Where's Papyrus?" he asked.

"He's out with Frisk, doing some winter clothes shopping," she replied. "It was a great help, since I need to have these papers graded by tomorrow. Frisk is outgrowing clothes faster than we can replace them."

"Heh, they sure are," Sans said, smiling fondly, sipping his coffee.

He was halfway through the cup before realizing he was drinking it black, the cream and sugar in front of him having gone completely untouched.

* * *

Frisk normally LOVED shopping with Papyrus. Unlike shopping with Mom or Sans, Papyrus would indulge them in trying on the craziest outfit and accessory combinations—and sometimes even buy them a little something that they could wear in private or out with friends, a secret between BFFs—and take plenty of detours through the pet store and candy shop.

Today, though...well, it just wasn't the same. Sure, Papyrus still let them try odd outfits and accessories on, but instead of joining in—last time, Papyrus tried on a pair of bright red stilettos along with a pair of daisy dukes, almost giving the fitting room attendant a heart attack—he simply let Frisk pick out what they wanted, spending most of his time in another section of the shop.

It was freeing, but pretty lonely. Papyrus was definitely not the same since...THAT happened. Sans seemed mostly the same, just a LITTLE different...but Papyrus was...VERY different.

Still, if Frisk was anything, it was empathetic. They would see Papyrus be as 'normal' as possible around Sans and Mom, but when they were gone...they would notice differences. This being one of them. Papyrus was much too quiet, much too...just...not Papyrus.

They exited the fitting room with a few outfits they liked, the attendant telling them Papyrus had gone in moments before they came out, so they sat back on a bench to wait, wishing they had brought a book or their 3DS. They never had to bring things when Papyrus took them shopping...

Lucky for Frisk, they didn't have to wait long. Papyrus stepped out of the dressing room, adjusting the cuff of a casual black jacket he wore over a white turtleneck sweater, having managed to find a pair of black slacks—although Frisk was SURE he found them in the women's section—to match. It wasn't something Papyrus would normally get, since he preferred much brighter colors, but the outfit suited him well, considering.

They watched as he spoke with the attendant, who scanned the tags of his clothes and then his card on the same device. He was wearing it out, then. Papyrus turned to them, smiling softly.

"Did you pick out everything you wanted?" he asked. Frisk nodded, even though there was plenty more they wanted to do—namely have FUN while shopping again—and handed Papyrus their clothing options. He paid for them and carried the bags out, leading them out of the store and off for the car. "Do you want anything to eat?"

Frisk was ABOUT to say no, but their stomach growling answered THAT question for them, and reluctantly nodded. Papyrus drove them both to a bistro just down from the shopping area, getting an outdoor seating area, since the weather was cool and pleasant.

They sat in silence for a good while, Frisk doing a good job of ignoring the curious glances of a human child with a Monster, something that was still uncommon a sight, focusing instead on taking micro-sips of their drink to avoid the inevitable.

"...Frisk, you can tell me if something is wrong."

Inevitability unavoided.

Frisk chewed their lip, their hands wringing together tightly in their lap. "...nothing's wrong," they said, not wanting to peek out from under their fringe, which didn't help back up their statement. When they were met with silence, they finally peeked up.

Papyrus had his hands folded contemplatively, his chin resting on them as he looked at Frisk, the glowing light in his right eyesocket softly, emitting an air of calm patience. Seeing that Frisk was looking at him, he spoke. "...I know you've noticed it," he said, and Frisk couldn't help but cringe slightly. The voice was all wrong, at least two octaves lower, and much too soft. "...That I don't seem to be who I was anymore."

Frisk's hands clenched into their jeans tightly, feeling a crawl of SOMETHING up their spine. As much as they wanted to look back down, they couldn't. Their eyes were being honed in on by the eyelight in Papyrus's right eyesocket, which flickered a soft purple color they had never really seen before. They swallowed hard, feeling panic rise in their chest at this sudden variable of the unknown.

In an instant, the panic was quelled when they felt the light weight of a hand on their head, a familiar gesture that broke them out of the terror spell. They blinked hard, refocusing their eyes on Papyrus, who was smiling at them, the light in the right eyesocket back to a neutral white.

"Calm down, Frisk," Papyrus said, ruffling their hair before retracting his hand. "I was telling you because I DON'T want you to worry."

Frisk let out a whoosh of breath, their body relaxing slightly now that they knew that any danger they thought they were in was all in their head. "...I...have noticed," they replied quietly. "...I just don't understand."

"I don't expect you to. But what I DO expect you to understand is that I am not GONE, Frisk. Simply...changed. Sans is too, but...he has a much better grasp on the change to make it less noticeable." He laughed softly, his expression more of what Frisk was USED to being on Papyrus. "It's a bit overwhelming, having a whole other life dumped into your mind, you know."

Frisk nodded, understanding THAT part, at least. They still had nightmares of things that seemed too real to not be, but at least when they woke up, they were still them. "...So...Papyrus isn't gone," they said. "Just...more than Papyrus."

"Exactly," Papyrus replied. "It's...a big change, I understand that. But I don't want you thinking that you can't come to me for things like you used to. We're still BFFs, right?"

Frisk cracked a smile. "That's my hope," they replied, then blushed when their stomach growled. "...Um...we should order something. What're you going to get?"

Papyrus gave them a blank look. "Gee, I don't really know," he replied, smirking. "We're at an Italian bistro and I'm hungry. What could I POSSIBLY eat to sate my lust for noodles and sauce?" He beamed when Frisk laughed, sitting back in his chair. "Well, that answers that. What do you say after this we go find Sans a new wardrobe? You KNOW he won't say no to whatever YOU pick out for him."

Frisk nodded enthusiastically, looking through the menu with renewed fervor, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted off their shoulders.


	17. Chapter 17

Sans sighed, adjusting the collar of his new jacket in the mirror, not COMPLAINING about the new clothes Frisk picked out for him, goodness no. He had to admit the kid had taste and from spending a day with Papyrus, they caught wind of what he might like as far as fashion choices went too.

No, it was mostly a sigh of mental strain at having come out after a shower to see his brother return with Frisk and it seemed not even TRYING to give Sans the peace of mind that things weren't changing so much. Seeing Papyrus walk in wearing clothes that could have been picked out of Gaster's goddamn closet wasn't doing much for his mental state.

Whether it was coincidence or Frisk reading the room like they were so good at doing, but Frisk hurriedly pushed several bags into his arms and begged him to try on the new clothes they picked out for him.

It was just the extra few minutes he needed, and he was taking his time. He adjusted the collar again, trying to find SOMETHING about the outfit he didn't like. There was none. Damn it.

He was wearing a white shirt made of some thicker material—possibly one of those exercise shirts—paired with worn-in-styled jeans, and a new jacket to top it off. The jacket was much stylized like his old blue one, save that this one was black with fur lining around the hood. There was nothing to complain about this outfit. It was casual, comfortable, but he could still wear it and the others like it out and not embarrass anyone.

It was the mere fact that it was so DIFFERENT that was bothering him. He was TIRED of change, after everything he had gone through just to get to his happy suburban life, white effing picket fence and all. For all of two months he was content, and then THIS happened.

 _'You're being such a selfish prick right now!'_ his mind snapped, the side the was speaking through logic and near-constant annoyance. _'It's just your looks! It's just extra memories that'll settle in just a few weeks! You probably won't even notice it in a couple more months!'_

 _I̶t͡ ISN'̧T͟ j͢ưst ͢my looks̶!̀_ he growled out loud, slipping into his origin language. _It͠'s̴ ͞Pap͢yr͡u͏s̕! ̶It̕ ͡ISN'͜T ͢ju͏s̡t ͜looks̨!͟ He'̶s CHAN̕ĢED̢! ҉ ͠RĘALLY c̕ha̢n͏ge̴d҉!͡_

 _'Ever stop to think that MAYBE he's trying to cope too? By ACCEPTING his changes, he's making it easier? It would be easier if YOU accepted this as reality too.'_

 _Th͏i̸s̡ ISN'T ͠what͞ ̵I ͘ẂA͟N̕T̡!̷_ he snapped, clenching his fists. _I w͟as f͞ina͜ll̸y͡ ̴H̷A̢PP̢Y! ͜ W͏hy҉ ̴did͘ ̵this̷ ͝have ̴t́o ha͠p͢pe̶n̕!?_

 _'Do you really think this will 'mess up' your life? Do you really think Toriel or Frisk care what you look like? The kid KNOWS you're different, and bought you clothes they KNOW you'd like! You're just grasping at SOME reason to resent Dad!'_

 _H́͜E'҉̧͘S̴̶ ̴̕҉N̨O̵̢͝T̕͜ ̨͢M̀͟Y̨̢͢ ͏̵͜F̀͟U̶C̶̢͡KI̶͢͠N̡̛͠G̨̛͟ F̨AT̴͟H̡Ȩ̵R̸̕!_

Sans clasped his hands over his mouth, both at the volume of his exclamation and the exclamation itself. He glanced at the door, waiting to see if someone had heard. Nothing. He let out a shaky sigh, rubbing his face and sitting back on the bed. It was true, though. Toriel didn't care what he looked like. Frisk was more than welcome to these changes. And Papyrus...

….to be honest...that was something he wasn't going to ever get used to. He KNEW it. But logic was right...he couldn't blame Gaster for this, not when he had come from the Void to sacrifice his life for theirs. But ever since this happened, it kept dredging up his own old memories and emotions along with Gaster's.

Since he was just a kid himself, he'd been responsible for raising and taking care of Papyrus, working three different jobs just to put food on the table as soon as he was able, and forcing static into his brain to block out the resentment he felt inside. It was an understandable reaction; he knew that much from looking at other Monsters who had lost everything in either the war, or the rotten living conditions before the Core had been activated.

But the last thing he wanted was for Papyrus to have ANY form of responsibility for that resentment. Before he was even seven years old, Papyrus had been subjected to gaining EXP just for defending himself with only Gaster's memory erasure stopping him from gaining any LOVE, had to watch his beloved father deteriorate rapidly before his eyes, and then witnessed his supposed death.

So no. Sans didn't hold any resentment toward Papyrus. In fact, he was GRATEFUL Gaster told him to remove those horrible memories. Sans's only regret was that he didn't have his own erased. It would certainly have eased his burden significantly.

Instead, he was left at ten years old with a little brother to take care of, a head full of knowledge no child should even be aware of, and the memories of Papyrus screaming his head off at having to watch his father fall into the Core because Sans wasn't able to pull him back fast enough. Pair that with scrounging for food and decent clothing, working three jobs at once with almost no sleep to pacify him, and having to be the steady rock for Papyrus when no one else wanted anything to do with either of them, that made for a VERY rotten childhood.

So when the only light of that childhood and adolescence, his little brother who did everything he could to help to the point of even sneaking out to get a sentry job at twelve years old, and without a fuss picked up the slack when Sans felt he rightfully deserved a break, who would carry him home when he fell asleep in a random spot, who would notice his very bad days and bring home extra fancy ketchup as a comfort food, was suddenly seemingly replaced by the spitting image of the man who PUT SANS IN THAT SITUATION TO BEGIN WITH...

…...yes. He felt resentment. And the worst part was, he was projecting it onto the last person he WANTED to project it upon.

Sans rubbed his face, staring at his hands, one palm whole and the other missing a piece, feeling like it was a fitting analogy of his life right now.

"Sans?"

He looked up sharply, seeing Toriel standing in the doorway, having not even heard her come in. Sans quickly folded his hands—whole right one over his left—and sat up straight. "Hey, Tori," he said, giving her a smile. "Ah, I was just...finishing trying on the clothes."

Toriel stared at him silently for a moment before shifting in and shutting the door behind her, walking over to him and kneeling on the floor in front of him, taking his hands in her own. "...Sans...you don't have to hide from me...I told you that this morning," she said softly. She turned his palms over, tracing her thumb over the hole in his hand. "...This doesn't matter to me." She reached up and touched his face, her thumb tracing the oblique crack in his skull. "THIS doesn't matter to me. The fact that you're two armfuls instead of one doesn't matter to me. When all is said and done...you're still you. THAT is what matters to me."

Sans's smile dropped from his face, his iris going downcast as he raised his hand and put it over hers. "...I wish I could tell myself that," he replied. "...I wish I could look at my bones and not feel like I'm taking over someone else's body...I wish I could hear myself talk and not wonder who is really saying the words..." His breath hitched. "...I wish I could eat and drink what you put out and suddenly not feel the need to change anything...is...is that too much to ask, Toriel? To be ME again? ALL of me? And not...THIS?"

Toriel curled her arms around him, hugging him to her. "...no, it's not," she said. "This is a massive change, and if you need time, then I'll give you time." She leaned back, taking his skull in her hands, smiling. "But don't think for a minute that I don't care for you as I always have. That's one thing I can GUARANTEE you that will NEVER change."

She leaned forward, kissing him softly. Sans returned the kiss, curling his arms around her neck before hugging her tightly. Toriel pet his back gently. "...Dinner's almost ready," she said. "Do you feel like you could eat?" She felt him shake his head. "Alright then. Do you want me to tell Papyrus and Frisk that you're tired?" He nodded, and she kissed the top of his skull, leaning back. "I'll see you in the morning, Sans." She stood up to leave, looking down when he reached out and caught her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"...will you sleep with me tonight?" Sans asked. "...I don't want to be alone."

Toriel smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Sure thing," she said. "Goodnight, Sans." She let go of his hand, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Sans stared at the door for a few minutes before quietly taking the new clothes out of the bags and hanging them up in place of his old clothes. He shrugged off his new jacket and draped it over a chair, picking up his old blue one and lying down on the bed, curling up on himself as he held onto it tightly. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still smell Snowdin on it, and that alone was enough to settle him down to sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

The days where everything seemed to go on as normal were the best days, in Sans's humble opinion. As long as days were normal, he could ignore the small changes that were happening in his life. When Toriel would do the crosswords with him in the mornings, he could get by drinking his coffee black. When he took Frisk out to the park, he could get used to the fact that his coat was black instead of blue. When Papyrus was in the kitchen, he could accept that the food was actually incredible.

He could accept that Papyrus kept his glasses in his front jacket pocket and took them out every time for reading, because he would still mumble what he was reading, like he always did.

He could accept that Papyrus would focus on Sudoku rather than the word search in the morning, because he would scoff and complain about what a better job he could have done, as always.

He could accept that Papyrus's fashion choices had changed, because underneath the black jackets, he would wear a different colored shirt every day (and even wear a graphic tee underneath on weekends).

They were small steps, baby steps, but it helped Sans immensely in the long run of things. Things that used to make him have at least six existential crises before lunch were becoming the norm, and normal was something Sans craved.

It was getting better.

HE was getting better. Even the outside memories weren't plaguing him that much anymore...just minor deja vu that would pop up now and again, or little tidbits of knowledge he formerly hadn't known completely offhand.

Sans felt that Toriel was right...he was still HIM. And that's what mattered.

Right?

* * *

Sans was late getting to Frisk's soccer game ( _"How much more suburban can we get, eh, Tori?"_ he had joked once. It wasn't a joke when Toriel suggested they get a minivan, so that shut HIM up), and he really didn't want to miss it. This game was the match before the team would be going onto the finals, and there was no way he'd be left out of levitating the whole team like last year.

Heh, he was practically 'Dunkle Sans' to EVERYONE on the team. It helped when he brought the best snacks and was the guardian of the best damn goalie in the state.

Stepping out of his 'shortcut', he immediately read the air as something going wrong, hurrying over to where Toriel and Asgore were. "What's going on?" he asked, frowning.

Toriel sighed, wringing her hands. "There was an accident in warm-ups," she said worriedly. "Alex slipped on the grass trying to make a block and hurt his leg...we're waiting for the ambulance."

Sans looked over at the group by one of the kids on the team, who was on the ground and crying while his parents were trying to keep him calm and keep everyone else from crowding him. The rest of the team looked concerned, especially Frisk, who was looking anxiously between Alex and off just past Toriel and Asgore. Sans followed their line of vision and Saw Papyrus sitting quietly on the bleachers, looking oddly contemplative.

Frisk flexed their hands and straightened their back, a look of DETERMINATION on their face. They walked over to Papyrus, saying something Sans couldn't make out, but it made Papyrus look up, the contemplative expression growing more intense. After a few moments, Frisk took Papyrus's hand and walked him over to Alex and his parents.

What on earth...? Sans edged a little closer, but not so much considering the wary look Alex's parents were giving Papyrus, but just enough so he could hear what was going on.

Frisk gave Alex's parents a smile before looking at Alex. "...This is Papyrus," they announced. "You remember him. He just got a makeover." They looked up at Papyrus, nodding. "...He can help. Trust me."

Papyrus was pretty well-known among Frisk's friends, his enthusiasm and friendliness being very infectious. That alone made Alex's parents relax just a LITTLE. Still, they kept a close eye on Papyrus as the Skeleton knelt down, giving Alex a smile.

"Hello, Alex," he said. "If you'll allow me, I believe I can help you a lot, and it wont hurt a bit." He waited patiently as Alex weighed his options before nodding. Papyrus lifted his hands, putting them on either side of Alex's leg without touching, the light in his right eyesocket glowing a soft green color. Alex gasped, staring when the bones in his leg glowed through his skin of the same color.

"Green magic keeps it from moving," Papyrus said, smiling as he slowly waved his hand over the glow, his smile flickering. "...Your tibia is cracked..." he murmured, his voice dropping an octave and sounding almost miles away. "Easily fixable." He paused, glancing up at Alex's parents. "...If you'll allow me."

Alex's mother squeezed her son's shoulders. "...do you know what you're doing?" she asked. "Would it...even work on...?"

Papyrus nodded. "Of course," he said. "Bones are bones, after all. I'm quite good with them." That wrung a soft breath of laughter from Alex, to whom Papyrus gave his attention back to. "As I promised, this wont hurt a bit."

He pressed his hands closer to Alex's leg, his eyelight turning from green to purple, and the magic glowing in Alex's leg doing the same. There was a warm sensation in the air that radiated through the cool evening, that slowly simmered down as the glows faded. Papyrus sat back, smiling. "And there you go. Good as new."

Alex stared at his leg, pausing before flexing it out. "Whoa..." he murmured. "...It doesn't hurt at all...! That's SO cool!" Before his parents could warn him to be careful, he hopped up and stood on both legs without any issue. "SO COOL!"

"Told ya," Frisk said, beaming. "Who knows more about bones than Skeletons, right, Papyrus?"

Papyrus smiled, standing. "Right," he replied, turning to Alex's parents. "He's perfectly fine to play tonight. However, if you believe you need another opinion..."

"No," Alex's father said, staring after his son rushing off to show his teammates that he was alright. "...No, I...think that's fine."

A short distance away, Sans could feel his legs going numb, his hands twitching by his sides. _'That was a goddamn LIE!'_ he hissed internally. Papyrus had used Skeleton mending magic on a human, something even Sans didn't trust himself to do on Frisk! A Skeleton's bones were comprised of magic unique to the Skeleton Monster species, and using that particular mending magic—which was the easiest mend for any Skeleton to perform on another—on HUMAN bones was something only the most skilled and trained of Skeleton Monsters could perform, especially on the fly like that!

Using that magic was something only Gaster could do.

 _"I think...I would like to become a doctor..."_

That's what Papyrus had said .2 seconds before Sans had a mini-heart attack at his brother having such an eerily close similarity to the career path of their shared parent.

Oh gods...he had to sit down before he passed out...

He stumbled over to the bleachers, sitting down hard, forcing himself to get a grip before Toriel saw and got worried. He looked up to see that she had instead gone over to Frisk, probably to inquire about Alex. Papyrus was accepting the thanks of Alex's parents and was heading back to the bleachers, pausing and looking off at something else.

Sans frowned, looking over where Papyrus was, seeing Asgore in the same state that Sans FELT, like he was seeing a ghost and didn't know how to cope with it. It took a moment for Sans to remember that Asgore was the most knowledgeable about Skeleton Monsters and their personal magics...and was coming to the same conclusion as Sans.

Papyrus kept eye contact with Asgore for a few long, tedious moments before giving him a soft nod, turning toward the bleachers and sitting himself down quietly next to Sans. A few minutes later, Toriel joined them, and Asgore followed suit.

As the game was starting, nobody said anything else on the matter, but Sans knew that there would be a LOT more to talk about later.

* * *

Predictably, Frisk's team won the game. It had been a very long match, since the other team was incredibly skilled, but at the same time Frisk as goalie never got anything past them, but by the end it was 2-0, almost 9 pm, and getting very cold outside. The parents spoke about getting the team together for a victory lunch the next day, and Sans, as usual, levitated the team per their very popular request.

While Toriel picked Frisk up and carried them to the car, Sans glanced around for Papyrus, spotting him across the parking lot speaking quietly to Asgore. The conversation was brief, and they parted way, Papyrus walking back over to Sans and Toriel and giving Frisk his congratulations.

"...An' Alex was the one who scored that winning goal!" Frisk exclaimed tiredly. "You saved the day, Papyrus!"

Papyrus smiled, ruffling their hair. "Hardly the day, just a few weeks in a cast for him," he replied before straightening up. "Listen, I'll be getting in late tonight...I'm going out for awhile."

Toriel nodded, putting Frisk into the car. "Alright," she said. "Don't stay out too late, alright?" She gave him a motherly kiss on the head before getting into the car. Sans did the same, not taking his eyes off of his brother, who made his way to his own car, and spent the ride home in silence, only speaking up to take Frisk inside and urge them to take a shower before getting to bed.

While Frisk rinsed off, Toriel headed off to bed. By the time Frisk was showered, dressed, and put to bed themself, Toriel was asleep. Sans paced around the hall quietly, waiting until he knew they were both asleep before teleporting out of his house.


	19. Chapter 19

Asgore stood outside the door of a small cafe, one that was open twenty-four hours for the midnight crowd, procrastinating for as long as he could before he had to go inside. He knew who was waiting for him...hell, he was the one who suggested this rendezvous. But it didn't quell the pounding of his heart from the anticipation.

Gathering up his nerve, he walked into the cafe, looking around quietly. At this time of night, few patrons were here, and even fewer who cared about Monsters coming in. Asgore felt the magic signature before he saw the source, sitting back in the corner of the shop. Waiting.

He slowly made his way over, standing on the opposite side of the table as his meet-up, remaining silent until he was addressed.

"You can sit down, Asgore. I won't bite."

Asgore swallowed hard, pulling out the chair and sitting down, noticing he had a cup of hot water waiting at his seat. He frowned in confusion until a small tea canister was pushed into his line of vision. He opened it, the scent of Golden Flower tea gracing his senses. "...You remembered."

Papyrus laughed softly. "'Remembered'? It was all you ever drank." He quietly raised his own cup filled with black coffee, sipping it before delving into a heavy silence. Asgore gently added the tea leaves to the water, watching quietly as the leaves settled.

"...So," Asgore said after several minutes of silence. "...you remember."

Papyrus took another sip of coffee before settling the cup on the table, his hands wrapped around it. "...More than I would like to," he replied. "More than I think I can stand, sometimes. A whole lifetime's worth of memories coming through all at once, out of nowhere, in my dreams...it's...unsettling, sometimes...the things I see. The things I remember."

Asgore looked at his reflection in the tea before sipping it. "...Is that why you wished to meet here?" he asked. "...To speak to me about some of these things?" He was met with a nod.

"Yes." Papyrus's fingers slowly drummed along his coffee cup. "...Sans...does not understand. He has memories that are linked to need-to-know basis...and mine are entwined with what I already know." His eyelight flicked up to meet Asgore's eyes. "...Out of everyone that survived...you knew him best, Asgore.

Asgore lowered his eyes. "I did," he replied. "Friends since childhood. We grew apart somewhat after my coronation, but reconnected when he became a Royal Scientist." He took another sip of tea. "...He was very much my best friend."

"...Until the war," Papyrus said. "...It broke him. Completely." He didn't even have to look up to know Asgore nodded. "...That is what I dream of, most of the time. That war. The things I...he saw. The things he DID. The worst part being that I can't even call much of them night terrors because it all felt so JUSTIFIED."

Asgore winced, tightening his hands gently around his cup. "...I should have realized the Skeletons would have been primary targets..." he said softly. "It's haunted me nearly every day that I didn't take precautions to protect them."

"He never blamed you," Papyrus replied. "Not once." He leaned back in his chair, his expression almost a hundred miles away. "...It's...difficult, being here...in this world...after all that. Being around humans. Remembering what they did. Feeling a Level of Violence ache and crave more...one human life for every Skeleton life that was taken...and never feeling satisfied with what was already done."

There was a heavy silence between them for a long time.

"...Papyrus..." Asgore said slowly, looking upward. "...if it will not offend you..." His voice trembled softly, his hands clasping into the cup to stop them from shaking, to no avail. "...may I...that is..."

"Asgore."

Asgore's shoulders twitched violently when he heard Papyrus's voice change, a shift in magic energy changing with it. He slowly looked up, seeing Papyrus look at him nonjudgementally and understandingly, expression soft and inviting.

"...You may speak to me as you would him," Papyrus said. "I know that you have much to say that you never got the chance to. It's okay."

Asgore clenched his eyes shut, feeling the choking swell of sobs trying to wrench their way up his chest. "...Wingdings..." he murmured, his shoulders shaking. "...I'm...I'm so sorry...for everything...!" He let go of the cup, pressing a hand to his face, already feeling the tears well out. "...I should have been there for you...I should have tried h-harder to HELP you...instead of keeping my distance...!" Tears dripped down his face, his breath shaking.

"...I failed you, Wingdings...! I couldn't even...honor your last request of me...! Your...your children grew up alone...without someone w-watching them...taking CARE of them...!" He clenched his hands tightly, pressing them to the table. "I swear to you, I would have taken care of them...like they were my own children, Wingdings...! I...I would have...!"

He broke off, his breath hitching when he felt hands cover his own, looking down to see long, elegant fingers encasing his clenched hands in a firm but gentle hold.

"Do not blame yourself, my friend," Papyrus said softly. "I won't allow it. Not after all this time, when you've suffered enough." He gave Asgore's hands a gentle squeeze. "They grew up too soon, but they grew up happy. Things have changed now, and all of the responsibility of Monster-kind is no longer on your shoulders. And I don't want this to be on your shoulders either."

He let go of Asgore's hands, reaching up and holding Asgore's face in his palms. "...It's time for you to be happy too, Asgore. Find what makes you happy, and finally LET yourself be happy."

Asgore gave him a shaky smile, taking Papyrus's hands in his own. "...I will," he replied, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He lowered their clasped hands to the table, squeezing them lightly. "...I will be happy...for you," he said. "...And once the purging of the old Underground is complete...I think I'll finally be able to move on."

Papyrus smiled. "Considering everything from the past is down there, I believe it will be a good thing," he said. "I would like to move forward as well, and finally be at peace with what happened..." He gave Asgore a soft look. "...and what will be."

Asgore squeezed Papyrus's hands before taking them back and circling them around his cup of remaining tea, the air around them feeling lighter and more comfortable...like sitting in the presence of a dear, beloved friend once more.


	20. Chapter 20

Sans couldn't help but feel screaming omens and signs clanging in his mind, staring across the cafe at Papyrus and Asgore and retracting the magic that allowed him to listen in, reeling from the information he had picked up.

But it wasn't so much what he had HEARD, rather than what he FELT. He wasn't feeling Papyrus here, he was feeling GASTER. He was telling himself that it was for Asgore's sake, but...

...that alarm that was triggering memories and thoughts at that last part...about 'the past' being back Underground...it made images flash in his mind's eye, of his old childhood home in Hotlands, his own memories of Gaster working in a lab in the back combined with a memory that was not his own...

 _He was not a moment too soon. He should not be moving so soon after expending all that magic and then helping Sans heal and erasing Papyrus's memories of the event, but he HAD to go back for his journals. More of the Royal Guard had arrived to collect the dust and armor for the families of the fallen soldiers, and he was trying to get back home as quickly as possible without being seen._

 _It was horrible, feeling Naiad's dust covering his journals beneath his hands, feeling waves of nausea at what had happened to his old friend. The way she had looked at him last he saw her was bad enough, but for her to have died without reconciliation...and like THAT..._

 _He shook it off. No. He couldn't let himself fall into despair. Not now, not after everything._

 _He crept into his house, checking in on the boys for a moment before going into his lab. He knelt down under his desk and opened a hatch on the floor, looking at his journals for a long moment before putting them into the hidden area. He would destroy them one day...but he couldn't bear to part with the only things that documented the growth of his sons._

 _He closed the hatch and stood up to head to his room for a nap..._

The iris in Sans's eyesocket constricted, covering his head with his hands as he felt himself be yanked into the Void and thrust back out through teleportation, looking up and seeing that he was in Hotlands, though any light came from the glowing magma, rather than by electricity.

There was no need for electricity anymore, not down here. In a few months, once the very last of the most tentative of the Monsters were relocated to the Surface, there was going to be a complete purging of everything down here, as a means to let go of the past and set many Monsters' fears of going back down at ease. Some had raised concerns, but it was put to a vote, and the majority was in favor of the purging.

What Sans had left down here were things he didn't need or want anymore, but hearing about those journals...remembering Naiad carrying them when she and the Guardsmen took him and Papyrus away...they were documentations of his childhood. And there was something else...something nagging the back of his head that told him he NEEDED to get them.

Going by his own memory alone, Sans made his way to where Gaster's house used to be, finding it still standing, albeit nearly condemned. No one else had bothered to move in after he and Papyrus left.

He made his way through the house and to Gaster's old lab, using his secondhand memory to feel along the floor until he found the hatch, pulling it open. Inside the hidden hatch was a small stack of journals, dusty with time and...well, Sans didn't really want to think about it.

Idly flipping through them to loosen up the aged pages, Sans sat down on an overturned filing cabinet, flicking his iris over some key paragraphs.

* * *

 _ **The small bones sleeps much of the time, but when he is awake, he is surprisingly bright, even his make considering. Already he is showing complete understanding of word association and simple maths.**_

* * *

 _ **I have decided to give him a name. It is too tiring attempting to get his attention any other way. His name will be Sans, simple and easily disposable.**_

* * *

 _ **Sans is reading intermediate-level books on his own. I carefully monitor his reading material; there are things I do not want him to know, not yet. Perhaps later, when he will understand his purpose for life.**_

* * *

It went on in that vein, and Sans felt...odd. The utter coldness of Gaster's words was unnerving, and made him feel gross inside. He flipped further into the journal near the back.

* * *

 _ **This is not going as expected. My body has broken down faster than I could repair it, and in my mentally-weaker moments, I have decided to create another life form, a new body for myself that will replace this sorry wreck.**_

* * *

Sans swallowed hard, putting that journal aside and picking up another.

* * *

 _ **I have decided to name him Papyrus. For being an empty future vessel for me, he seems to be very alert and perceptive, full of...personality, is the only term that comes to mind.**_

* * *

 _ **The bond between Papyrus and Sans is strong, much stronger than I anticipated. While Papyrus reacts well to my company, his demeanor with Sans is much different. It helps when Sans appears to know everything Papyrus happens to need.**_

* * *

This page had a photograph taped to it, one of Sans and Papyrus cuddled on a blanket pile, an open book laid out in front of them that Sans had been reading. Sans smiled fondly, touching the photograph, honestly shocked that Gaster would have something so...sentimental in a normally cold book like this. He turned the page.

* * *

 _ **HE CALLED ME DADDY**_

* * *

That was all that was written. Sans couldn't even make out if it was something happy or panicked written down. He turned the page again, only to find that several pages had been torn out, and that was the end of that journal.

He picked up the third, which was by far the slimmest, but the writing was less note-taking and more like a diary. He turned to the first page.

* * *

 _ **I almost lost my children. I pains me now even thinking about it, replaying that horrible day, but it serves me still as a reminder of what I have in front of me: two wonderful boys, so smart, so good, and so pure.**_

 _ **To keep that purity, I've erased Papyrus's mind of what transpired. One day, when he asks me why he has EXP, I will tell him...but not anytime soon. It would do no good to have a child grow up with the knowledge that he killed ten Royal Guardsmen, and especially one being Naiad...oh, Naiad...I am so sorry for this. You were right. I AM a despicable creature...a sick, despicable creature...**_

 _ **Even more so that I took Sans's memories too, of what I once had in store for him...like Papyrus, he is just a child. He did not need to grow up with the knowledge of what I once had in store for him. I am only grateful that Papyrus never knew...**_

* * *

 _ **...My body is breaking down more rapidly than before. I can almost smell the decay that is emitting from my bones. I don't have the magic energy to keep the decaying process at bay...so I will simply bear with it.**_

 _ **Sans worries so over my condition, but he keeps his worry from Papyrus. Still, both of our combined efforts of making things seem less bleak are useless against one as empathetic as Papyrus. He knows I am in pain, and strives to make things easier, more cheerful. It's almost funny...how in the world can I be so blessed with these children after all I have done...after what I was GOING to do to them?**_

 _ **I keep having nightmares now, and oh gods, how they haunt me. Nightmares of myself, so cruel as to tear the personalities out of Sans and Papyrus, of taking Sans's bright, eager mind...of replacing Papyrus's sweet soul with my own rotten one into his body. These dreams are so unbearable, but the irony is not lost on me.**_

 _ **I had intended to do just that to my sweet, beloved children.**_

 _ **I had created them with the sole intention of remaking myself.**_

 _ **A creature like myself does not deserve Hell. I deserve so much worse.**_

 _ **Oh, my beautiful, perfect sons...**_

 _ **….can you ever forgive me?**_

* * *

Sans let the journal drop from his hands, his whole body shaking so hard his bones rattled. Like breaking open jars, memories that had been locked away in his own mind began spilling out. Memories of being so young and knowing what he one day had to do. Memories of all the tests Gaster once put him through.

Memories that were not his own, of self-righteousness and self-loathing, clashing with his own fear of what was once in store with him; two sets of memories tinted blue and purple, clashing together in a painful indigo mess that was all HIS and yet none of his.

Sans dropped to his knees, clutching his skull in his hands. _**WHA͞T DI̶Ḑ YOŲ ͏DO͞ TO ̛M͘E!?̸**_ he screamed, tears pouring down his face as he sobbed. _**GOD͡DAM̵Ń ̡I͜T̨ ̷ÓL̴D MĄN̵,͠ W͞HÀT͢ DID ̶Y̧O̴U D͡O ̢TǪ ͢US̸!?̧**_ He covered his face with his hands, his body shaking violently.

The soft click of thick heels on the floor made his body tense up, his soul flaring with both defensive intent but also familiarity. Of peace. Of HOME.

And then a voice he had all but forgotten spoke.

"Hello, Sans."


	21. Chapter 21

_Gaster._

Sans stared up at the tall Skeleton that looked down at him, seeing nothing but Gaster. The stance, the expression, the magical signature...there was no Papyrus he could find in the Skeleton at all. His hands clenched tightly, teeth grinding as he glowered up at him.

"...What...did you DO to us...?" he growled, his iris flashing blue. When he was met with silence, he leaped to his feet, his soul flaring. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO US, OLD MAN!?"

"What I had to," Gaster's voice replied, his eyelight in the right eyesocket glowing purple. "I did what I had to, to save my children."

Sans took an unconscious step back, disbelief flooding his mind. "...no..." he choked out, shaking his head. "This...doesn't make...ANY sense...!" He hissed, his iris flaring brighter. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH PAPYRUS!? WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!"

Gaster was silent for a few long moments before raising a hand—his right, hole-punched one—and pressed it to his chest. "...For all intents and purposes," he replied softly, "he is still here. He never left. He still...IS."

"That's a fucking lie!" Sans snapped. " _I_ still AM, Gaster! _I_ can still tell MYSELF apart from YOU! So don't you feed me that bullsh—"

"And why do you think that is, Sans?" Gaster interrupted, giving Sans pause. "You read my journals. You watched my work. You ARE my mind, Sans!" He held his hands out to his sides almost helplessly. "This was a gamble I took...and one I am not sorry for, if it meant you two could LIVE!"

Sans stomped his foot on the floor childishly, shattering an already-broken piece of lab equipment under his boot. "IT WAS A FUCKING STUPID GAMBLE!" he shouted. "Since day ONE of waking up in...THIS...!" He gestured to his body. "...I have seen...and heard...and FELT a difference in my brother! BECAUSE HE'S NOT THERE ANYMORE!"

Gaster went quiet for a moment before looking up, his expression going sharp. "And I keep telling you, Sans...that he is NOT gone." He raised his hands, his left making a soft blue light and the right making a purple light. "Though, the process of this gamble was fundamentally different for your and Papyrus's cases. For YOURS...it was the case of your make being one of the mind. Like one cup of water dyed blue and the other purple, when mixed together..." He put his hands together, creating an indigo light.

"...It makes this. But the fundamental fact being that it is still water. Though you cannot separate the blue and purple dyes, the basic fundamental still remains." He snuffed out the lights, his expression going dim.

"...With Papyrus...it was...a much different fundamental." He raised his right hand, waving it and out of nowhere, a small cup of sugar appeared, having been displaced to him from the Void; from the floral pattern on the cup, Sans could see that it came right from his own damn kitchen.

"Papyrus was created with the intent of a physical form. A body. And though my intention was once to have it empty and without a will, the soul that was made developed a will." His smile went sad. "...A sweet soul...if you will."

He waved his other hand, a cup of water appearing in it. "The fundamentals here, as you can see...are much different than that of you and I, which share a similar fundamental. When I gave him my piece of the soul..." He poured the water into the sugar, swirling the solution and watching the sugar dissolve. "...HIS fundamental dissolved into mine."

Sans almost doubled over, feeling sick to his stomach. He pressed a hand to his mouth, shaking. Gaster quietly displaced the cups away, folding his hands in front of him quietly.

"...the gamble I had with Papyrus was almost lost," he said, his voice thick. "...had it not been for him willingly giving control to me so he could live."

"LIAR—!" Sans lurched forward, his magic flaring.

"SANS." Gaster's eyelight flared brightly, the room suddenly feeling wrong...like it wasn't even THERE, but merely a hologram that was distorting around him. Sans felt his soul shift into attack mode, his own iris flaring as he instinctively brought up his opponent's soul stats.

What he saw nearly put him on the ground.

 **GASTER/PAPYRUS**

 **HP: 22,000**

 **ATK: 90**

 **DEF: 85**

 **LOVE: 15**

His body went cold, his iris's light flickering out and leaving just the plain white circle in his eyesocket, all will to fight leaving him. He couldn't fight that! Not a chance in HELL could he fight that! If the HP alone didn't retract the will to fight, that LOVE did! GODS, he'd had dreams of what Gaster had done during the war but to have that much LOVE...!

A hand on his back jerked him out of his terror, his vision unblurring to see the room was back to normal, the fighting air gone and only a calming presence remaining.

He remembered this calm. He had woken up after that terrible experience with the Guardsmen, cuddled into his father's side, Papyrus reaching across Gaster's chest to rest a hand on his arm, Gaster's arms holding onto both of them tightly.

Not LOVE. But love.

"Sans."

Sans looked up, seeing Gaster giving him a sorrowful, regretful look. Before Sans could say anything, Gaster curled his arms around him, pulling him close. Sans felt a weight heavier than a Blue Attack fill his soul as all remaining fight left his body, leaning his head into Gaster's shoulder.

Gaster petted Sans's back, his own soul doing much the same. "...I am sorry, Sans," he said softly. "I did what I could, but the sins of my original intent still remained with him, even after everything that happened." He tightened his arms around Sans. "...the only comfort I can give you is his love that never left...the love he had for everyone...but especially you."

He stood up, bringing Sans with him, keeping his hold on Sans to keep him upright until the smaller Skeleton grounded his feet to the floor. "...Sugar may dissolve in water, Sans...but the water becomes sweeter. So in the end...it is HE who left the stronger imprint on ME...not the other way around." He held Sans's head in his hands, tilting it up to look at him. "...so please remember that."

Sans sniffled, searching Gaster's eyelight for something...and looked down when he perhaps found it. "...I...need time..." he finally said, his voice hoarse and weak. "...so much time..."

"...Then I will give it to you. As much as you need." Gaster stepped back, holding Sans's shoulders tightly before letting go. "...I'll still be here for you, Sans...you know that, right?"

Sans kept his eyes averted, his hands shaking when he heard the echo of his brother's voice...but only an echo. "...just go..." he said. He heard nothing for a moment, and then the sound of thick heels retreating before silence.

He stood there, in the middle of that condemned room, in that condemned house, in this condemned world, and realized that a part of him had been condemned with it. At this point...this lowest point...the only way he could go was up.

Sans wiped his face before kicking the journals to the corner of the room, setting everything on fire with a snap of his fingers before shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. After a moment's thought, he waved his hand, displacing the photo from the second journal into his hand, staring at the first reminder...with Gaster's memory...of his capacity to love.

He stared at the scene for a long time before letting out a heavy sigh, feeling that he could REALLY use a drink right now. "...Welp...I'm goin' to Grillby's..." he said, tucking the photo away and fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one up and walked out of that house, not bothering to watch it burn.

"...Papyrus...do you want anything...?"

 **THE END**


End file.
